Slavery of the Heart
by Ally Lei
Summary: A girl, to save her love's life, sells him into slavery. Now he is back this time they are going by his rules and all he wants is revenge and her. But what if they are caught up, again, in the game of deceit that destroyed their love. (AU) HxR
1. Almost as much as I came to love him

"So where exactly are we headin'?" a boy's voice cracked next to me.

I allowed myself a small smile at the boy's curiosity. Jakkin had an enthusiasm and curiosity for life that I had admired since the time I first met him, which was about three years ago when I saved him from being executed for spilling juice on a noble's daughter. He still believes he has to pay his debt to me. Without turning to him I adopted an air of loftiness and replied.

"We will go were ever our paths take us." my words turned sardonic, "Or in our case where ever the next client is."

"There is no 'next client'

This time I did turn to him. We were both astride dune horses so it was rather hard. Jakkin was about fourteen years old and was just now starting to turn into a man. His voice was currently cracking when ever he spoke and he had the lanky awkwardness of a boy who had yet to grow and fill out. He also ate like a horse. We had to accept a sand donkey as a gift from one of my clients just so we could carry enough food for him to eat.

Jakkin was a prostitute's get and was sold into slavery at an early age. He has no clue who his father is and has vague memories of his mother. He claims from those memories that compared to today's standard of beauty his mother was rather plain. I don't put a lot of credit to his words because he is quite handsome for a boy. As do all Sunnsand people, he had a head full of thick, curly dark hair. His skin was tanned but didn't have the weathered look that so many in the south carried. His cheekbones and black eyes were almost feminine but he had a good strong jaw and heavyset eyebrows. His form was lanky but spoke that with proper nourishment and training he would become a powerful man.

"What do you mean there are no clients requesting my presence to dance? They are always clients wanting me to sword dance so they can place bets and when I win they make money off those bets." A slight conceited I know but I had yet to come across a rival that could beat me in a fight.

Jakkin gave me a frosty glance but replied.

"You have been working yourself too hard for the past eight months. I felt that you deserved a break and declined every offer from the nobles. And before you protest I told them that you would like a chance to go home and visit with your family. Almost all of them immediately agreed with me and left." I was a bit surprised he would do that because Jakkin was a very kind hearted boy and wouldn't do anything without telling me first. Apparently, though, Jakkin also had mother hen syndrome if he felt I wasn't get enough of this or that he would do it himself.

"You told them I was going to visit my family?! Why would you do that? Are you purposely trying to torture me?" I thought of yelling at the boy but that would only shut him up, leaving me to try to unsuccessfully pump information.

"Like I said you have been pushing yourself to hard and could use this time as a welcome break. I know I could." he added.

I glared at him but didn't say anything. Facing forward I contemplated what I could do. It was still early morning. Cool enough that we could ride without using the suncloaks to shade us from the sun, and for the dune horses to canter a bit. We could reach the next town at the end of the day if we did that. Maybe I could leave Jakkin there and disappear leaving him with a note to travel on to my brothers with my sincere apologies I couldn't come.

"Before you start trying to conjure up an escape plan let me remind you of something." he turned to me, "You haven't been home in three years! You promised your brother you would visit him every year or so. If you don't visit him soon he is going to look for us and when he finds us both you and I will be in BIG trouble. He is scary enough without having him breathing down my neck and yelling at me!"

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. Jakkin tends to over exaggerate and blabber a lot. He wouldn't be punished. Would he? Now that I think about it I wouldn't put it passed my brother. He is quite terrifying when you don't know his sequence of moods and how to deal with them. Calm, disbelief, anger, and rage. Those are the only moods he is ever in. Just ignore him and you will do fine. I've been doing it for years and I'm still alive.

"You will not get in trouble." I said firmly.

"Yes, I will. You brother made me promise when he met me, to make sure you didn't get into trouble and also to make sure you don't skip out on your duties. Meaning you had better visit your family. He said that I would be punished if-"he was cut off.

"You will not get in trouble I promise."

He looked at me in relief. I could tell he was scared I wouldn't listen to him. With that admission though I had silently agreed to visit my family and he knew it. I wondered at how close we had become in three years. It usually takes me a year or so to open up and even then I wouldn't trust them with my life. It has only happened once before and the out come was painful for both parties.

"It seems I will forever be in your debt."

I sighed a bit when I heard that. It seemed to be his favorite saying.

I glanced at him.

He was so serious. Sitting on his mount with his hand resting lightly on the pommel and the other on his sword hilt you could have mistaken him for a full grown adult from his expression. Ah, little one, you will never believe that you have paid your debt to me and then some in companionship and friendship.

We were traveling on an old donkey path that led form one town (where we came from, and now a day away) to another (where we are heading and a day away). The towns don't have names so you have to remember where they are on a mental map with landmarks. Cities though have enormously long names. It is like they are trying to make up for the lack of town names.

Speaking of towns and debts I owe one to Old Man Moon at home. I blinked in shock. I had not referred to my hometown as my home in years. They say home is where they welcome you. I am not welcomed in my hometown that much. All because of a mistake and rash action. Those who were even good friends with me now speak to me frostily. Everyone acts civil towards me because they have to or else they have a few words with my brother resulting in taxes being raised.

See I was the young and naive daughter to a Lord (my father). I really could do no wrong. I know that is egotistical but I couldn't. I didn't believe in making mistakes and always tried to do the right thing. It seemed that everyone loved me and wanted to make me happy. Maybe that is what got me into this mess in the first place...

I felt my face turn mournful. My sky colored eyes turning glassy with tears and my lips forming a small pout. To turn my attention elsewhere, I observed our surroundings.

There was not a single cloud in the sky and a breeze was blowing by. Turning up sand but keeping it away from our eyes since we were facing downwind. It was hot, almost unbearably so. We would soon have to bring out the sun cloaks to protect our skin from being sun burnt. Then there was the desert, endless miles of sand. As far as the eye can see and then some was covered in sand. There were oasis and wells but you had to know where they where at to find them. This whole country is made up of sand!

This is why it is called Sunnsand. Oh ha ha! Our ancient ancestors were so clever. So full of wisdom they decided to settle in a desert of all forsaken places! Though they did settle near The River, the one river in the land that was so big you couldn't see the other side in some places. And there really was some wisdom in settling the desert because not many enemies are going to invade a desert just to take over a desert. It would be kind of stupid wouldn't?

I wish some of that wisdom was passed onto me. I could have really used it well.

I felt the sun beating down on my skin and knew I should put my suncloak but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It wasn't until Jakkin broke my reverie to comment that we should bring out the cloaks. I did but it was more of an automatic move than even a half-hearted attempt. I couldn't help it. I was stuck in the past.

When I first met him I was ten years old and him, thirteen. As said before I was well loved and a very happy child. But that day, that glorious and terrible day when I met him, I saw something that would begin to shatter my innocence.

While coming back from the market because it looked as if it would downpour soon, I waved to the passers and imagined my father's reaction to the gift I had just bought him for his birthday. I was excited and couldn't wait for the dinner party tonight when I would present him his gift. He would open right in the middle of the room, in front of all the guests, and then he would smile down at me and say it was just what he wanted for his birthday and that he couldn't ask for a better gift or a better daughter.

I loved my father tremendously. I loved how he always kept his cool and was conservative, he didn't value wealth and he had very few personal slaves (of which I was grateful).

The guard at the gate let me in with a question of how well my shopping went. I told him that it was wonderful and I had found father the perfect gift. The guard smiled down at me, I guess because of my excitement. He informed me that my brother had asked to see me when I came back to discuss an important topic. I smiled; I knew my brother wanted to talk about my behavior during the party. He was always worrying about making an impression.

I thanked Brekk, which was his name (I was on first name basis with all of the staff much to the disapproval of my brother), and went through the wrought-iron gate.

The estate was a beautiful building. Built with sand and clay bricks its color was a reddish tan; there were also pathways made of the same bricks leading from the gardens, which were just inside the gate. They also led to the stables and the college. The path through the gardens went straight through them but there were pathways leading off into the gardens. I would normally take these and wonder through them until someone was sent to find and clean me up for supper, but today I had a mission.

From the gardens, the path led to the courtyard which in turn led to the front steps of the great mansion. The building towered over me with towers on all of the corners and two above the main door. Many windows faced the front overlooking the courtyard, gardens, and some, the town (these also looked over the gardens and courtyard). I had managed to obtain the suite of rooms in one of the tallest towers on the mansion, one of the two towers above the front door. I had the best view of the courtyard, gardens, and the town from up there. My destination was the room right next to mine in the other tower above the door: my brother's room.

Hopping up the steps and skipping through the front door I was stopped by the bustle going on inside. Almost all of the servants were scurrying around the room tidying up a bouquet, dusting off a table, mopping the marble floor, and many other jobs for the party. Some of them smiled at me but most of them ignored me, too intent on the job at hand which was fine with me. I would rather be ignored then taken somewhere to be groomed and dressed in the stuffiest dress imaginable.

I avoided all of the workers and managed to reach the marble staircase to the right of the door without any incidents. The great stained glass window above the front door shed colored light everywhere making you think that you were in another world. A very weird one too. The window and the old, grand chandelier above the Great Hall was the pride of the Peacecraft family. I especially liked it because the crystals hanging form the chandelier caught the light from the window and sprinkled the colors all over the marble hall. One of my favorite games was to try to avoid the little dots by stepping on a lager colored space.

I raced up the steps and turned right down a hallway lined with pictures of my ancestors until I came upon another stair way except not as grand as the main one. I climbed the stairs but stopped two floors up and in between the third and fourth floor. On the wall was a sconce that lit up the stairway like all of the others. This one, though, served a dual purpose; if the small golden knob on the bottom of the sconce was twisted 180 degrees and then the sconce was turned onto its side a panel will open on the opposite wall.

Very useful and very secretive. My mother was very paranoid and she cajoled my father into building a secret passage way that led up to our private chambers. We even had 'play' rooms where all of our toys and some clothes were stored to make it look like we actually lived in them so no one would become suspicious and go looking for where we actually sleep. Also, a most trusted servant would sleep in the bed to make it appear that we were actually there. The plan was very elaborate and had many details yet was way too unreasonable for someone who was well loved by their land owners.

After looking around and making sure that no one was there I twisted the knob and turned the sconce. The panel behind me whooshed up and I caught a waft of mildew. The hallway behind the panel led to the far left side and then up a small staircase to the top of the mansion. There was nothing to extraordinary about the hallway or the stairway. The walls were an off white color from age and the red carpet beneath my feet matted down and smelled, hence the mildew smell. No pictures or anything lined the walls except the standard sconces seen through out the house. Occasionally I could here people in other rooms talking, laughing, and arguing. I passed on level were I could here thumping, as if a headboard was hitting the wall or some one was punching it in rapid succession. I wonder what was going on in there.

I finally reached the top and was greeted with sounds of grunting and metal slicing through the air only to come to a stop with the loud thud of a sword hitting a practice post. Someone was practicing their swordsmanship and I bet I know who it is. I smiled at the thought of watching my brother practice; I greatly wanted to learn how to use a sword and my brother has taught me some easy defensive moves but no more than that. He says that I should be ladylike and a lady does not use a sword. I was really tempted to use a vulgar word I had heard around the soldiers' barracks when he said that but contained myself. It would not be good to say anything 'unladylike' in front of him when there was still a chance of convincing him to teach me some more.

The top floor was technically an attic and all of the servants, slaves, guards, soldiers, and guests thought that it was. But it wasn't. The first door on the left opened up into father's office. I have never been in there but my brother has; to learn how to run things around the estate. Farther down the hall and to the left was a door that led to a private indoor training room and a collection of weapons of old. The right sides had four rooms and in order from the first you see to all the way down the hall are: the private library, my room, my brother's room, my mother's room. My father used to sleep up here too, in his office (except it wasn't an office back then), but when mother died he packed up and moved all of his stuff elsewhere. I really had no clue were he slept. I was greatly tempted to do the same because mother's death cast a shadow on the whole level and I tried not to stay up here long during the day.

I tiptoed to the training room's door and slid it open quietly so there was a slit to see through. My brother was an unusually tall person; standing six feet and four inches he towered over the regular five feet and ten inches of the Sunnsand males. An endowment from mother's bloodline. Another odd feature was his hair, he had long blond hair and while I had the same, my hair was a darker shade than his almost white head. Yes, we were half breeds. Father married mother when he was really young and traveling the land to obtain deals, alliances, and other things newly-made Lords do. He met her on the border of Sunnsand and Coldsnow, the only place where the temperature was not in the extremes. My father fell in love with my mother so much that he married her, much to the disapproval of other nobles. When my mother died Father changed, he still loved us but he seemed to be more aloof and cool toward us. The change had hurt me greatly but eventually I understood that it was his way of coping with the loss.

My brother just took it with utmost respect and coolness that was expected of him and a Lord's son. Out of the two of us, he was always more rational and logical than me. He gained the troops' respect by going through their training and more. He trained and pushed his body just as hard as our elite soldiers and guards did to theirs. He had the best tutors in the land and led our small legion into battles against attacking river pirate/raiders only to come out victorious. Even now when he had more responsibilities at home he still trained and practiced.

His sword winked at me as it sliced through the air on a complicated maneuver. Balance perfect he completed his practice period with grace and speed, going in for the kill of an imaginary opponent, he faked left then quickly swung right only to change directions again right in the center of the swing to slice upwards effectively cut his opponents throat. All of this was accomplished while looking like an elaborate dance. How I envied him for being able to use a sword. I wanted so much to just feel the weight of my sword whistling through the air while I was in a calm peaceful state. Oh, how I wanted to...

"Come out already Lena, I know you are there. I saw the door move while practicing." my brother's deep voice rumbled through the air.

I blinked in surprise. I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't notice him walking over to the sword rack on the other side of the room to put his sword away and then walk back to the center of the room with a small towel. He now stood looking at the door while wiping sweat off his neck.

Rule #1: Pay attention to your surroundings.

I sheepishly opened the door and stepped onto the hardwood floor in the room. White paneled wall surrounded the room with very few adornments on them. The only ones was a bull's eye and sword rack along with a towel rack. Light filtered through windows along the far side wall.

"I got back form shopping." I said, "I think Father will really like what I got him"

I saw an unidentifiable emotion pass across his face?

"Oh really, what did you get him this time?" my brother questioned in a teasing tone.

I quickly got out a small package from my cloak pocket. Unraveling it revealed a plain box.

"You got him a box?" his voce had laughter in it now. I glared at him and retorted:

"No, Zechs, the present is in he box you idiot."

And to prove my statement I opened the box to show him. Inside rested a small boot knife. It was relatively simple with a small ruby at the end of the hilt laid in gold-plated metal. Yet because of the simplness and usefulness it seemed to have a dignified aura. Zechs took the knife and laid the edge on his thumb. It sliced through his skin easily letting a small line of blood bead up. He sucked his thumb then placed his forefinger out to rest the knife on it. The knife balanced perfectly after a little of wobbling.

"Well it seems you were right sister. This is a very good present." I smiled here. "Perfect balance. A keen edge. Tell me where did you get this. I might like one of my own."

I grinned up at him in my childish mischief.

"I'm not telling. You'll just have to wait for your birthday." I impishly said.

My brother gave a mock sigh of distress and mumbled "I guess I will". After having said that he turned serious and I knew this is what he wanted to talk about.

"I would like to talk to you about your behavior for tonight. I know you know the rules so I'm just going to be brief. One- Stay where there are plenty of guest and everyone can see you, Two- do not accept anything from suspicious looking people, Three- mind your manners, and Four- DO NOT go into any corners with boys." I snorted at the last one. I was ten years old, not many boys were interested in me.

"I know, Zechs" I sounded like a young child I know but they were the exact same rules as last time and the time before that too.

My brother reveled in my grumpiness. Turning back into a smiling teenager he spoke the words I dreaded to hear:

"Go get cleaned up and dressed for the party. I bought you a new dress that should be lying on your bed."

I groaned and sullenly turned towards the door to shuffle out. I was out the door and in the hallway when I saw my Father. I smiled and said hello to him expecting a response back. Only I didn't get a response. He passed by me in a furious daze without a glance. I was a little put off by that but rationalized that he had a lot on his mind with the party and all. I was just at my doorway when I remembered that Zechs had never given back Father's Knife. I raced back to the training room hoping to demand it from him. As I neared the door I heard shouting. The voices sounded like my brother and Father, and they sounded mad. I could hear voices but couldn't understand them until I opened the door to see what was going on.

They were standing in the middle of the room facing each other. In my brother's hand was a sword, no doubt after I left he started practicing again. He had the sword pointed at Father and was furiously shouting as my father stood three feet away from him watching him red-faced.

"-I don't care what you think about her. I invited her so I'll take responsibility." That was my brother.

"I don't want to see our good name ruined because some money wanting whore bewitched my son!" Father shouted right back at him.

"She's not a whore and you know it! And if you were really worried about our name you shouldn't have married Mother!" I had never seen my brother defend a person much less a girl. I wonder who she is. What was with that comment about Mother?

"You know what I think?! I think you are afraid that now I am becoming a man and planning on getting married-"

I stifled a gasp. When had this happened!?! Zechs always tells me his secrets. I felt oddly betrayed that he didn't tell me. Again I tuned in to hear what they were saying

"- I will take over and you will be kicked out. I think that you are jealous that I have love and you don't! I think that you are so corrupt by power that you will do anything to keep your title and gain more power, and killing Mother proved it!!", so caught up in his rage that he threw Father's knife, the knife I was going to give Father towards the door. The knife cartwheeled through the air and embedded itself in the door frame. Only a mere four inches from where I was watching.

I didn't notice though. I was still trying to get around the fact that Father, my father! had killed Mother. No, I must have heard wrong. I had to have heard wrong. Father loved Mother. The next scene however proved me wrong.

Father Hit My Brother!!!!

He Punched Him!!!! Right in the stomach, and while his son was bent over trying to collect his breath from the powerful punch he calmly said, "I maybe corrupt and I do not deny nor claim to have killed your mother. As for the girl, you will not set seven feet near her. Do you understand? DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" the last part he shouted and kicked Zechs.

I felt hollow. I didn't even notice tears running down my face or that I was sniffling. I didn't notice that small mewling whimpers were coming out of my mouth. All I could focus on was the admittance that Father did kill Mother. He killed My MOTHER. Why? Why did he kill her? He loved her, didn't he? I felt the bottom drop out of the floor and I was sent crashing along with it. My world crumbled showing me a different story, Reality. Father didn't love Mother and he killed her, and by his display he didn't love my brother or me either. Could we be killed off too? I felt nothing as these thoughts ran amuck in my head. I just watched the scene before me. My brother on his knees doubled over while my father watched on. Slowly as if knowing I was there my brother raised his head and through with bangs saw me in the crack of the door. His eyes widened considerably and on his face emotions passed quickly.

It was his eyes that broke me of my trance. Deep pitying eyes. He knew I had seen it all. He knew that my innocence of the world was shattered forever, and he was the first to grieve for the once young, naive Lena. My eyes shifted to the knife embedded in the door frame. The simplistic knife I had bought for Father, and as I stared thoughts grew in my head. He didn't deserve this knife. I had bought it out of love but now he had shattered that love. He didn't need it and I was not going to give him a weapon for him to kill me or my brother with. Without realizing it my hand snaked out and yanked the knife from the wood. The sound brought my father attention, but he only saw a hand with a knife in its grasp disappearing from view. My brother called after me but didn't pay any attention.

I raced down the hallway to skid to a stop at the top of the stairs. I ran down the stairs taking two to three at a time all the while tears running down my face. When I look back on this moment it is a wonder to me that I did not trip or fall. The next part is a blur to me. I somehow burst out of the secret doorway without being seen, flew down the stairs and hallway, and bypassed servants on the Grand Staircase and Great Hall without getting stopped. Stumbling down the outdoor stairs I whipped my head from side to side wondering where I should go. I dismissed the Gardens, the Stable, and the College because it would be too easy to find me there. I could also be sent back and I wanted to get as far away as I could. I didn't see or mind the curious stares I attracted I was in my own world of grief. It was like my mother died all over again.

The only place I had left was the town. I took off down the path running as fast as I could, trying to escape my troubles. In the blink of an eye I was outside the gate, past the rode the led up to it, and in town. I went to the only safe haven I could think of: the park. Once there I ran to a tree on the far side that was up against the small forest. I slid down the tree exhausted and notice that it was raining. It was like the gods felt my grief. I set my knife down beside be and curled up, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my head on my knees.

How long I sat there and cried I don't know. Eventually I was soaked to the bone and all the tears had come out of me, but I still had my grief. I must have struck a sad picture or something to attract his attention. I don't know what he saw in me with my wet torn clothes, my grubby hair, and tear-stained faced. I am sure he now regrets having helped me. I felt his hand touch my shoulder and when I didn't respond arms wrapped around me. I still miss the comforting sense I got from the enclosure. His arms were warm, like the rest of his body, against my shivering cold body. I instantly felt comforted and when he pulled me up I didn't resist him or struggle to get away. Once on my own two feet he wrapped his oil cloak around me to keep me from getting any wetter. I looked up to see who could and would be so kind to me and I met his eyes. Deep Blue Eyes. They showed understanding instead of pity. They showed me someone could be kind and comforting even to a total stranger.

I loved his eyes.

Almost as much as I came to love him.


	2. Do you want to be friends?

HELLO!!! This is Ally Lei and I would just like to say thanks to all my reviewers. You guys really made my day!! See I thought with just one chapter that was a bit confusing I wouldn't get any. Thanks!

**About the Story:** I do admit the first chapter is a bit confusing, but I will always write it in Relena's pov unless I put someone else's name at the beginning. As for finding out what happened, you won't find out until the fourth chapter. Heero doesn't make an entrance until the third too. No Jakkin is not one of the pilots. He is my own character and he will play a major part in moving the story along. This is the chapter where you find out what happened with Relena's mother and father and who Zechs was talking about. Also more Lena-Heero action (except in the past)!!!

Ok I think I covered every question and then some. On with the story!!!!

**Slavery of the Heart **

By Ally Lei

Disclaimer: (I forgot to put one in on the first chapter) I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.

The light from the oil lamp overhead was dim, casting shadows on the walls and floor; making it seem like you were in a different dimension. It was stuffy in the room; the air had become stagnate. Jakkin was downstairs getting our food and no doubt procrastinating. I think he sensed I wanted to be left alone. Out in the desert, that was the strongest memory that had captured me in a long time. It had put me in a 'thoughtful' mood which those closest to me call my 'grumpy' mood. They once joked that in this mood I could make the whole Sunnsand region bitter cold. They were exaggerating quite a bit but you get the idea.

I sat on the single bed in the room (Jakkin insists on sleeping by the door, he says he is protecting me from what he calls ruffians) in the far corner from the door. Straw and feather rustled together as I shifted my position on the mattress. Why had that memory come after so long? Was it because I was so close to where 'it' happened? My deepest secret that even Jakkin doesn't know about? Only four people in the whole world know what happened. One of them is in slavery, not understanding why. Another is dead, and the other is free and living a happy, prosperous life. The last one grows colder every day. Can you figure out which one I am? I don't think you can.

We had arrived in the town in the evening which I was grateful for because usually when we arrive anytime before supper, someone always seeks me out and challenges me. I was really not in the mood for a fight. We quickly sought out the cheapest yet most reliable in we could find. That wasn't hard because there were only three inns in the whole town. It wasn't the biggest of towns but it was by far not the smallest.

I let Jakkin handle all of the arrangements for board, food, and stabling because I was still lost in a daze. I guess I was coming to rely on Jakkin. Not good. Maybe I should start pushing him away. The thought wormed it's into my head. Got to love mental self-defense, if there is such a thing.

I was silent going up the dimly lighted stairway, down a dimly lighted hallway, and into and dimly lighted room. Seems as if this inn was made for me and my moods. I threw down my knapsack and unbuckled my belt to slip off my scabbard. Crossing the room to sit on the bed, I rested my sword across my knees incase I needed it. That is where I sat and that is where I am, now, an hour later. Jakkin left to go get food a half an hour ago not being able to stand my silence.

I sit there quietly looking at my sword across my lap. I am sure I look like a painted statue I am so still but I don't care. Silently without notice to my surroundings my mind ticks away at a frantic pace; thinking up strategies, words, conversations anything to take my mind away from the past. I have learned that dwelling there can break a person yet it seems I subconsciously don't want to pay any attention to that lesson. Maybe it would be better if I let it all go. Just let it out. No one is here to see me. No one is there to see the Sword Queen fall. I am utterly alone. All alone.

I make an attempt to shake my head to rid myself of those thoughts. Again I am asking myself why I am thinking these thought. A though came as an answer. Could it be…? My eyes dart to the record of dates on the wall.

The 26th.

Today is the 26th day of the fourth month in the year 495 .

"My birthday." I whispered with my eyes wide.

I had unknowingly marked the day of when I was born and the day my life changed. My birthday used to be a joyous occasion. Every year my brother would throw a small party for me with just my friends and a few close relatives. My father never did any thing for my birthday because he was always away over it. I never did mind it. I was perfectly happy with just my friends and even after Father's image changed in my eyes not much else did. I would receive presents, tear them, open and 'ooooooooo' and awe over them. I was glad to receive gifts people kindly picked out but it was when all of the guests left and my brother came to me with a special gift. Each gift he gave me was a prize possession no matter how small, useless, or tackily beautiful. He was my brother and I loved him for it. He could give me a smelly old shirt and I would still cherish it because it was his and it would give me the same sense of comfort.

This was all before I met **_him_**.

I missed him; both of them actually, Zechs and him. We always celebrated my birthday together just like we did for theirs. But now on my 22nd birthday I was alone. Away from both of them. Away from love or any sense of comfort. Traveling sucks.

It was sometime before I realized tears were running down my face and making paths along my dusty face. It was then that I felt myself break. Tears came pouring out, all of them racing each other to help me cry my sorrow. It wasn't the thought that I was alone that bothered me so much, hell I have been alone for six years, but it was the thought of my life and where I was now that broke the dam. I cried for along time it seemed like. Now I was sprawled out on the bed, my cheek pressed into the sheets and half way in between sleep and cruel reality is where my mind turned to another birthday memory.

(AN: I will do this rarely but I have to clear this up. This is Relena's pov and the following memory is the continuance of ch. 1's. Ok? Ok.)

I stood shivering in the rain snuggled into this kind stranger's oiled cloak. He still had his hands on my shoulders' and was looking at me. He seemed to be trying to make a decision because I was sure I looked horrible. He gave a slight nod of his head having come to a decision. Bending down he picked up the knife I had forgotten all about. He seemed surprised when he saw it and gave me a sharp glance. It looked like he wavered on his decision but stuck to it. Putting his hand on my shoulder he guided me through the park and onto the deserted street.

He led me through a maze of roads and alleyways that I didn't pay attention to. Remember I had just had one of the shocks of my life. I was still shivering in the cloak but whether it was because of the rain or shock I don't know but he was getting wet to and he wasn't shivering. Maybe he just didn't show it.

Finally we arrived at a building. I recognized it as the blacksmith's place where I had bought the knife. He led me through a door and into what was the workroom. Maybe he was an apprentice. He certainly seemed like he belonged here. Walking through the front half of the room I noticed it was messy. Messy in an unorganized way. Tools were scattered all over work tables and half finished projects were just lying about the space. Someone could easily trip over one of them. I shuddered to think of what I would have found if I actually looked through all of the junk. I hoped he wouldn't make me have to find a place to sit but we didn't even stop. We walked right on through the mess and came to a much cleaner setting.

He pointed to a stool by the fire place and I gladly took it. I sat there by the fire being warmed up and I watched him shuffle around the place picking up tools or scraps and putting them away. Twice he went over to the other side and came back with a small frown on his face, tool in hand. Once he took down a rag from the wall and wiped one of the tools he brought with him. He was a meticulous cleaner and no doubt was an even more meticulous when it came to his work or details.

I learned more about him in those first moments then I have about any of my friends. I also looked at his face and body. He was handsome even at the age thirteen. Dark unruly brown hair (which is an unusual color for a free citizen) shadowing deep blue eyes, the color of a raging sea (another unusual color). He was about as tall as me but I expected that because he wasn't your normal Sunnsand male. At my age of ten I was taller than most boys at the age of fifteen which meant he was taller too. He moved with surprising grace as if he was used to bearing weight and keeping it steady. He was lean. Small, dense muscles covered his whole body and even then I could see that he had slightly broad shoulders that would begin to grow broader as he got older.

I was thoroughly warmed up by the fire when he obviously ran out of things to do. He brought me a metal cup of tea from the kettle hanging over a small fire place where he was fiddling earlier. I forced myself to give him a small smile in thanks. He didn't smile back so I let it fall. I drank my tea noting the slightly bitter taste and assumed it was Dragon's Root, the plant found in the desert that when turned into a tea would heat your body from the inside out. I wasn't particularly fond of it but it served its purpose on a rainy day such as this.

Before I knew it, my tea was gone and I had to give him back my cup. He took it and set it on the floor next to his. He scooted a stool in front of me and folded himself up on it. He stared at me for awhile, making an assessment of me as I did of him. Finally he shifted around and held up my knife he had never given back to me. I had forgotten all about it. I looked at it then him and met his eyes dead on, silently asking him what he wanted from me. He then spoke in a cracking deep voice.

"Where did you get this?" he asked. His voice cracked a bit but that was because his voice was almost but not quite done maturing.

I blinked. He wanted to know where I had gotten the knife? Did he want one of his own?

"I got it here. The blacksmith sold it to me today." I responded truthfully.

He seemed to think for a bit and I sensed the slight hostility he had for me was dispersing. I wonder what he thought I did.

"Two days ago a knife disappeared from my finished projects rack. To be specific this knife disappeared because someone stole it." Before I could object that I did not steal it he went on. "Did this blacksmith have curly, black hair?"

I thought for a moment before I responded. Did he have curly black hair? I couldn't remember that well because I was too excited about having found the perfect gift for Father. I frowned a bit at that thought. Wait. No, he had straight black hair and I told the boy in front of me so. He frowned at that but he seemed to have a smug attitude now. Giving me a small smile he got up and walked over to a rack were knife in various sizes were hung by their hilts in between two pegs. I had noted it earlier but thought nothing of it but now I thought that this must be his finished project racked. He scanned the rack and picked out a small knife about the same size as the one I had bought. He brought it over to me and held it out for me to inspect.

It was almost the exact same style as mine only this one had a blue stone embedded in the hilt and upon closer inspection there was a thin blood groove in the blade. I was a bit confused as to why he was showing it to me. I had a perfectly good knife that was almost identical to this one in his hand. He saw my confusion and held it closer to me much to my dismay. I was now face to face with a deadly weapon no matter how small. What did he want me to do?

As if reading my thoughts or maybe he just saw my hesitation and came to the logical conclusion he said, "Take it"

"Why?" I queried.

"Because this knife-", he held up mine, "is imperfect. It has a tiny flaw down by the hilt that if hit with the right amount of force it could shatter." He added, "I was going to melt it down again and try to form some kind of cup or jewel setting from the metal. It would never work for a valuable knife."

His little speech convinced me he was an apprentice. I only understood about half of it because I was obviously lacking in the knowledge of the finer points of making weapons. A knife was a knife wasn't it? Even when he explained it out to me I was still a bit confused as to why he was giving the blue jeweled one to me and as much as I tried to hide it he saw my confusion.

"Here let me show you." he said, going over to his tool rack on the opposite wall of the project rack.

He took down a tiny hammer that was probably fashioned for delicate work. He brought it over and set my knife on the hearthstones in front of me. He then bent down close and examined it by the fire light. Taking aim, he let the tiny hammer drop on the invisible (to my eyes) flaw near the hilt. The blade shattered into five pieces: three big ones and two pieces that if put together they would be the same size as the other three.

He looked back up at me through his still wet bangs, watching me for a reaction. He got one but I don't think it was the one he expected. Seeing the blade shatter reminded me of my dilemma. Father had killed Mother. Mother was gone. Did Zechs purposely not tell me? Of course he did; he wanted to protect his baby sister, I thought bitterly. And when you looked at the shattered pieces they could sort of stand for my family. The three pieces were Father, Zechs, and me. The little pieces could stand for Mother. The thought brought tears to my eyes and I let them flow not caring who saw. I had thought all of the tears were gone but obviously I was wrong. And this wasn't sobbing it was just weeping, a steady stream of tears rolling down my face quietly.

I didn't see his face but as I said he was most likely surprised and not a little bit confused and uncomfortable, but even that didn't stop him from trying to comfort me. Like in the park, he put his hands on my shoulders and then wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his body. I cried there on his shoulder making it wet once again after it was almost dry. He didn't do anything else and I didn't really want him to. I just wanted to be held; like Mother did when something scared me. I found myself whispering over and over 'Mother is dead. Father doesn't love me.' into his shoulder and he still didn't let go. He just held on like he knew what it felt like to lose one's parents. I eventually did find out that both of his parents were dead and the blacksmith he was apprenticed to was his father's brother, but that little bit of information wouldn't come until later down the line of our budding friendship.

Finally I stopped crying and just sat there hugging him because I apparently wrapped my arms around him. No wonder he hadn't moved, he couldn't. I immediately backed up, unwrapping my arms from around him and breaking through his circle of arms as well. I felt my face heating up. I had just cried on a total stranger's shoulder as if I was some pathetic child.

I think it was at this point were I started to build my pride and up as a defense mechanism. I was certainly a bit colder to everyone after this day. Except him. Never him because he helped me and cared about me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry on you but thank you for letting me." I apologized.

He seemed a bit taken back at first. He obviously wasn't used to being thanked or apologized to. He was probably under appreciated and taken advantage of which wouldn't have surprised me that much by he reactions and doing since we arrived under this roof.

He gave a quick smile. "It's all right. I have had my ups and downs as everybody has."

I noticed that he had an educated way of talking but put words in certain places and accented them with the commoners' accent. When you spoke to him you could understand him perfectly but didn't get the sense that he was anything other then an apprentice blacksmith. He could probably speak correctly and like a nobleman if he wanted to; giving him a certain advantage when he went to sell his work to either nobles, or commoners because they would feel more comfortable with someone they thought was like them in a roundabout sort of way. Very clever. I wonder who taught him to do that.

He thought I was a commoner like him and treated me thus. He treated me like an equal. No submissive attitude of the servants or the disgust and contempt of the slaves. It was really refreshing. I think that is what made me decide to disguise my noble's pronunciation and dress whenever I went into town from then on. I realized I wanted to be his friend. I wanted someone to treat me for personality. I realized right then that I was annoyed at my brother for treating me like a little naively idealistic girl and at everyone else for discrimination at my station in life. I wanted to be an equal.

But how?

I could never go back after my display of emotions. Running throw the mansion like a little girl would not gain anything that I wanted. Everyone inside the grounds would probably look at me with sympathy and think: 'Poor Lena. I wonder what she is crying for. Maybe …..' and then they would go off and make stories in their own heads as to why I was crying. Then they would probably tell them to others and pretty soon there are dozens of rumors flying about the place and everyone will treat me like I am a doll. Just the thought makes my stomach roll.

Then there were those who probably would look at me with disgust and think: 'Poor Lena! Hah! She can't handle life! She should just deal with it! I bet she's just trying to get attention.' or something along those lines. Then the whole rumor procedure would start and then there would be MORE rumors floating around. After that happens the house hold would take sides and would treat me however they saw fit. One side like a doll; the other like a pathetic maggot (Though that reaction would be concealed if they wanted to keep their jobs. Though they would still be quite cool with me.)

"I can't go back. I don't know what to do. Everyone will treat me different. I don't want that." I whispered aloud while looking down at the dirt floor. I didn't mean to say it but I had a habit of speaking aloud to help me think. I usually got weird looks because of it too.

He heard me though and responded.

"You have to go back. 'They' will treat you different most likely but who cares what 'they' think."

I just stared at him. Was he teasing me or trying to lighten the mood?

"Ok listen. If anyone asks you if you are alright just tell them you are fine. Every thing will eventually pass and this event will be wiped from peoples' memories." he advised.

I continued to stare at him. He certainly had an innocent outlook on things but he was an apprentice blacksmith so maybe all commoners thought that way. Maybe that was why nobles could rule lands. Because they were smarter and could handle things like that. Little did I know that behind that innocent exterior was a cold, calculating mind and he used it to his advantage as did other commoners like him. It was in my upbringing that I discriminated them but I quickly learned my lesson. I think that the only miscalculation he made was when he believed I was a commoner too. It would have saved both of us a lot of pain down the road if he hadn't.

"But I wouldn't be fine." I replied. Wasn't that obvious?

He sighed a bit and thought. For a few minutes I waited for his response. He glanced at me every now and then, weighing options until finally he made his decision. He looked me straight in the eye as if finalizing his decision and then he spoke.

"I have found in the past that as long as someone knows the truth you'll be fine." Seeing my blank look he elaborated as best he could.

"When someone asks you if you're fine and you say you are, even if it is a lie, as long as there is someone who knows you are not you'll be fine. That someone will know you're not fine because you tell them you're feelings and thoughts."

I blinked.

I still didn't understand what he was trying to say (his wording was a bit weird) but I got a sense of what he was hinting at. He was saying I needed a friend to confide with. To tell all of my thoughts, frustrations, and feelings to said friend and then I would feel better. It did make sense sort of but was he offering me his friendship or telling me to get a friend. My only friend at the time was Hilde, a maid that served directly to me and even knew where and how to get to my secret room. I think I could tell her but then I think she too would treat me different.

I slowly shook my head. I don't think I could tell Hilde; it would be just too….weird having a friend, no matter how close, to know my father killed my mother.

He looked like he expected my response which was the first hint to his brain power. I, of course, didn't notice it because I thought that nobles were smarter at the time, but he stood up from the stool and hauled me up with him. As soon as I was on my own two feet I backed away. I was still with a stranger, a person I didn't even know what his name was. He bent down, picked up my broken knife pieces, and held out his hand to me.

"Do you want them?" he asked.

I shook my head. I would have thrown the pieces away anyway because they had to much sentimental value on them and none of it was positive. Again he expected my answer because he was walking away from me before I even processed what he asked. He set them on one of the work tables next to the half stone, half wooden wall (bottom half was stone) and came back to me.

"The rain has let up it should stop before we reach the door. You should go back just remember what we talked about. Okay?"

I nodded. It seemed this whole meting I had said roughly nine sentences if you don't count my mantra of: 'Mothers dead. Father doesn't love me.'

"Good" he stated.

He took hold of my elbow and led me to the other side's mess. I again shuddered but he noticed it this time. I think it was because he it wasn't natural for a person to shiver when they were dry. Which I was. He looked back at me and then turned to see where my gaze was pointed at. His face took on an amused expression and I obviously went up on his 'Good List' because I wasn't going to be a slob. It looked like he favored people who were as control freaks as him.

"I would apologize for the mess but I don't apologize for other people. I will assure you though that this is not my master's or my mess. It is my fellow apprentice and cousin." he looked at me again, "He is the one who sold you that knife."

I, being my inarticulate self, nodded again. It made sense. This boy in front of me had more talent and affixation for his craft while his cousin probably was only learning to please his family. He was naturally jealous and did everything he could to annoy his rival for his family's praise.

We reached the door without any more conversation, but when I went to go out the opened door he grabbed my shoulder. I turned to look at him because he was behind me. Half shadowed by the light he looked mysterious and powerful.

"I am busy tomorrow but how about the day after tomorrow I meet you in the park at the highest point of the sun and we go from there?" he asked with a grin.

I looked at him in shock. What was he proposing to do? Was he…

As if reading my mind (or my facial expression) he asked, "Do want to be friend?"

He still had a grin on his face but now his eyes twinkled with amusement. He held out his hand as if this was a business meeting and he knew it too. His eyes were entirely too mischievous to be serious.

I grinned to because of his infectious nature. I took his hand and tried to squeeze firmly but he had other ideas. He pumped my hand up and down for a whole _minute_. My arm was sore after that.

"My name is Heero by the way." He stated

"Relena" I gave him my middle name. I didn't want him figuring out my identity to soon. That would be disastrous to this new friendship.

I was five steps away from the workshop when he called after me.

"No secrets okay?"

I turned and nodded and then continued on my way all the will wondering what I had gotten my self into.

"_Do you want to be friends?"_

End Chapter

So how was that?

I do admit I am moving along at a slow pace but I am setting up a great story! At least I think so it all depends on what you, my readers, think so please read and review to give me tips and praises. You can also give me flames if you want. I personally think that after reading flames I strive harder to write better.

I will try to update once every two weeks but I don't have much time during the week to myself. I find that my writing doesn't turn out as well as I planned if I rush it like I did with this one. I personally think this one could be better but oh well.

READ AND REVIEW PLEASE

Ally Lei


	3. Did I really deserve happiness?

Sheepishly smiles

I am terribly sorry for not getting this out sooner. As I said in my bio (which I will update every other day to let you know when to expect the next chapter out or if I am having trouble) I had a small virus and got it cleaned. Well, apparently I didn't do it that well because it came back a day later and scrambled everything again. I finally found it in the Registry where it had embedded itself to continually manipulate my computer and deleted it. S now the third chapter is up.

On with the story!!!!!!!

Slavery of the Heart

By Ally Lei

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Gundam Wing's characters or names.

Chapter Three: Did I deserve happiness?

Thumping sounded outside my door.

Sunlight was shining on my face from the uncovered window.

I could hear someone yelling outside.

It seems I won't be getting anymore sleep with all of the forces of nature combining to torture me.

Blearily I wondered what time it was and in answer my stomach rumbled, telling me it was time to get up and get my butt to the kitchen. Then there was also the painful stretching sensation in my lower abdomen. Seems it is time to go to the bathroom too.

I _hate_ mornings.

I glanced over to the door where Jakkin was supposed to be sleeping. Only he wasn't there. In fact he wasn't anywhere in the room. I quickly sat up, ignoring my body's complaints. His blanket wasn't even unfolded yet and his bags were as I saw them last night.

And there was no food anywhere.

I didn't panic yet but I was extremely close. I knew I shouldn't have let him go down alone. You're so stupid Relena!! You know what could have happened to him yet you still let him go. Gods! I shouted and gave myself no mercy. I did know what could happen to him, a young, strong, healthy boy, whom goesgos down to the kitchen and detours to the pub. Traders could have taken him. Traders were the most depraved of merchants, Traders who dealt in slavery. They captured tribes from the sands, other countries, and even our land sister, Coldsnow.

But the most despicable of all Traders, who themselves are not highly thought of, are the ones who lure young people somewhere secluded. They then knock them out and drag them someplacesomewhere, most of the time to a cart, to sell them on the flesh market in another city. They are greasy and greedy, not a pleasant combination. I have only dealt with them once before and I do not wish to repeat the experience.

I rose from the bed and looked around the room for signs that Jakkin had in fact been in the room last night after I went to sleep. No such luck. There was not a single trace or sign of any disturbance where he should have been rummaging. In sets the panic. That theory on the Traders was looking mighty convincing right about now. Oh Gods, Oh Gods what do I do? What do I _do_?

I made my brain halt.

Take a deep breath, Relena, don't lose your calmness, you know how to handle this.

Repeating that to myself, I calmly walked to the door and jerked it open. Calmness didn't work for me from there. I flew down the hallway and stairs not even noticing the people I was pushing out of the way. I am sure I was on the receiving end of many curses when I joggled their hung-over heads but I didn't care. The first place I went was the tiny pub at the back of the building. That was where many Traders hung out and lured young bodies to them. In the dim, trash-strewn and musty smelling room, I encountered a worker wiping off beaten and cluttered tables. There were some other people in the room as well but most of them looked like they were trying to kill their headache with more alcohol. Idiots. I quickly described Jakkin and asked the worker if he had seen him.

"Please, just remember if you saw him and maybe who he was with."

The old man (it _had_ to be an old man) gave me a hard look and huffed but he did answer me and that was the important thing.

"Listen lady, there were a lo' o' people here last nigh'. I 'ave no clue who you're talkin' about." he mumbled angrily. He obviously hated mornings too. Was he drunk or hung over?

I still pestered him with details of Jakkin's appearance until finally, when I mentioned he carried daggers up his sleeve and they both had blue gemmed hilts, did a glimmer of remembrance show in his eyes.

"Oh yeah, I 'member him. Told 'im he couldn't 'ave weapons in the pub. Too many fights you know. Kind fella said he was sor'y and left. Didn't see 'im the rest o' the nigh. Real respec'ful, didn't put up any fuss when I 'old 'im. That's what this country needs. Respec'for their elde's."

"Please kind sir", note the respect in those words, "do you remember who he was with. Hair style, facial mark, eyes, smell." I threw the last one out there because this was beginning to look like a lost cause. Anything would have helped me narrow down the search, not by much mind you but it still would have helped.

He looked at me. I was sure I was acting like a mother who had lost her son but he still asked me a question out of his own curiosity.

"Why are you looking for him anyway? Is he your lover?"

I stared at him in petrified horror. Just the thought of Jakkin as anything but a little brother made my stomach a little queasy. I was still wholly devoted to Heero even if he didn't know it. Kind of pathetic isn't it?

"No, he is my son. We were on our way to our new home in Peacecraft where my husband is." I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. The story was a ploy Jakkin and I used often when I had to do some dirty work for an employer. I didn't steal or anything but I did sabotage some people's work, and I only did it when I felt that the 'work' didn't help the nation's economy. He seemed a bit shocked though, I guess it was because he thought I was a teenager. He soon smiled as if offering a peace treaty, which when you look at a delegate's face they are smiling but a completely fake smile.

"I'm sorry ma'am I didn't know. You aged really well I might add." his smile fell, "I'm afraid that I don't know anyanny more then what I have told you. I'm sorry."

"Thank you. Would you happen to know anyone else that worked during the nigh-"I was interrupted by a voice behind me.

"Miss. I saw who he was with." it was a light voice, filled. Filled with mirth and humor. I swung around searching for where it came from and spotted a man sitting in a dark corner. Wearing a dark cloak with dark clothing underneath, he practically blended in with the shadows which is probably why I skipped over him. He stood in one graceful movement, his outline becoming straight and powerful as his cloak fell closed around him. He strode over to me and I met him halfway in front of one of the tables, the old man forgotten.

He was of medium height, about as tall as me (and remember I am tall because of my blood) but the most intriguing thing about him was his long braided brown hair and his blue eyes that looked almost violet. I couldn't tell what his build was but I am willing to bet that he had a lean muscular build. He probably was a sword dancer judging from his grace but he didn't look familiar so he was most likely still new to the game.

"I couldn't help overhearing that you are looking for your son. I don't know how to tell you this Miss. But as you probably already guessed, the Traders took him. I saw him talking to this smart looking man and your son left with him. Didn't see him come back all night." he said mournfully but his expression soon changed.

"If it will bring up your hopes I would also like to agree with the old man. You have aged really well. Maybe I could help you find him." he flashed me a grin and in my frazzled mood I frowned at him and turned away not even thanking him for his help. I was disgusted; in his mind I had a son and was married. What was he doing flirting with a married woman, and unless he knew I wasn't married or Jakkin wasn't my son he shouldn't have. I glanced back to see him still smiling. I scoffed at my own stupidity. He was just offering me some help. Some help too. As he had said I had already guessed Jakkin was taken by Traders but I think I needed confirmation for my conscience. Indecision beset me and I struggled with myself while climbing the stairs to my shabby room.

Come on Relena this is what you wanted. You wanted Jakkin to leave, to go away.

Not like this though.

He was getting to close. He could have found out! Just leave him be and leave. Forget about him.

I didn't want the Traders to take him. He has already been a slave once.

Who cares? He is out of your way. He is gone. Leave him like you did with _him_.

No! I will not let another person be taken by them. I will not! I will not betray another person's trust.

Listen if you just walk—

I firmly stomped out that little, annoying voice in my head. Did you know, that I have noticed that most of my troubles are caused by the urging of that voice? It is really funny, though, because when I betrayed Heero's trust, I did it completely aware of the consequences, and as opposed to my troubles caused by the voice, I think that I am in better situations with the voice than I am in when I am rational. Funny isn't it? Just a little thing I have noticed about my persona.

A plan began to formulate in my head. It wasn't very good but it was better than nothing. Okay, first I need to pack, obtain provisions, and see to my horse. Then I need to find out where in this gods forsaken desert the bastard went. I can see right now I am really going to love this trip. The only remotely good thing that comes out of this is that I don't have to visit my brother. Maybe I should thank him before gutting him. That sound nice doesn't?

* * *

Irony. 

Funny thing isn't it?

It is ironic that I am sitting here on my horse heading towards Peacecraft, where my brother lives, the last place I want to be. And here I thought I wouldn't have to see my brother. I swore under my breath again, cursing every god I could think of for putting me in this position. It was bound to crash and burn like all other things in my life do. If you don't think so let me give some examples.

My innocence. I lost it the day I found out my blood father killed my mother. Of course that was mentally, physically I lost my innocence to Heero when I was fifteen on his seventeenth birthday.

My relationship with Heero. You know I had this one coming. A relationship built on lies and secrets is doomed to fail. This one ended when Heero….went away.

My relationship with my blood father. After I found out his secret I never acted like the same sweet girl towards him. It really got out of hand when he revealed what he wanted me to do (not telling) and when he discovered my relationship with Heero.

My relationship with my brother fell apart too. The week after I discovered father's little secret I avoided him as he did with me, but I finally cornered him in his room on a rainy day and asked him the millions of questions that had been running through my head during the week. He was uncomfortable but he did tell me. He told me that Father never loved Mother and during their marriage he had numerous affairs with visiting females, maids, slaves and the town's citizens. The only reason he married Mother was because she was pregnant with his heir Zechs (my brother) and he did not want to give up the chance of having a son. He also told me after many threats that I was really his half sister. Father had had an affair with a half- blood Southern and Northern woman and she became pregnant. Turns out that father had some kind of disease where he couldn't reproduce that well and no matter how many times he spread his seed he probably couldn't conceive. Well Zechs and I were his lucky strikes and he didn't want to give us up.

That was a shocker!

I broke down crying after that. Zechs seemed to have decided that talking faster and telling me everything would make me stop crying sooner. He told me that even though I was a girl he had great plans for me and kept me against Mother's wishes. I found it interesting that Mother acted the whole time she was alive. She knew I was another woman's daughter yet she still acted king towards me, unlike the many myths and stories where when a child's parents wrong the gods the children take the punishment and the evil parents get off free. Well Mother wasn't like the Gods apparently.

Mother caused my father _so_ much trouble. She ruined his plans by telling people who could benefit and people who could lose as well. She sold many of Fathers prize possessions and even rallied some of the servants and slaves who felt ill will to my father. She caused so much trouble that my father had to kill her to keep her quiet, and kill her he did. He gradually fed her a drug that would slowly weaken her and make her ill, but she wasn't dying fast enough for him so when she was out in the gardens one day he had an assassin disguised as a servant throw a small dart at her neck. The assassin was a long-time professional and he had aimed so perfectly that when the dart's tip pierced my mother's skin it punctured some vital nerve and my mother died instantly. The assassin would then run up to my keeled over mother and raise a raucous. Her (yes it was a woman) story was that she was taking the lady's lunch out to her lady when she heard a gasp and a crash. She dropped the food and ran to her lady to find the lady had fallen over into one of the rose bushes, and you know the rest.

And they told me she died of a heart attack.

Liars.

Unintentional liars but still liars.

After my brother told me the truth he comforted me awkwardly and tried to cheer me up by telling me that he asked for a girl's hand in marriage. Her name was Noin and she was the daughter of a Royal Sword Dancer, newly made lord for his services. Naturally Father didn't agree because he was a 'New' Lord and not an 'Old' Lord. Gods he was such a petty twit. Zechs did eventually go against him and did marry Noin and from the last I heard she was pregnant with my niece or nephew.

Of course by telling me that little bit of information I broke down even more and wished I could see Heero. I was meeting him the next day but I needed him then. Zechs still tried to comfort me and I finally gathered my strength to obtain control again. After that day Zechs became busier with work and I was meeting Heero almost every day so we never saw much of each other and our bond gradually unwound.

I left the Manor at fifteen and have only been back once but I guess I am going back again now. I wonder how this visit will turn out.

I traveled on threw the day and stopped at an oasis at sundown. In the Sands, it was easy to be bored out of your mind so not many thoughts happened during the day.

Going through all of the required procedures and slept with many disturbing dreams, about what I can not remember. I rose with the sun, packed, and rode on again. You might be wondering at my leisurely pace but I wasn't in a big hurry. The Traders most likely had many other slave prospects with them and they are no doubt traveling at a creeping pace. The only reason they were ahead of me was because they probably left town when they caught Jakkin while I slept the night away.

Arriving in Peacecraft was disturbing. So many places that hold so many memories were too depressing to see but I made myself bear it. There was the park where I first met him and there is the inn where we celebrated his seventeenth birthday. And there was the market we went shopping in for our two year anniversary gifts. If I saw the blacksmith's workshop that would just be icing on a cake. Good thing I would have to go out of my way to see it and I didn't really want to.

Gods this is depressing!!!

People saw me ride by but didn't give me a second glance because I had my hood up. I didn't want anyone recognizing me. Most of them don't know what I did but I think many of them suspected because the last time I came back home, I received many hostile and cold glares. Heero was a big part of these people's lives. He helped them with their groceries, talked to them, laughed with them, cried with them, and fought to protect them from sea invaders. And I took him away, which was unforgettable.

See, Peacecraft was on the shore of the Great Sea, one of the few hospital places in the whole country. Others were by the Great River and large oasis. Naturally we would have pirating invaders and defenders. Heero served for five years on the Defending squads. He was really good too. He had commanded a squad that had so many successes that he had been approached by the Chief-in-Command of my father's knights with an opening in the training pages. Heero declined though. Said all he wanted to do was make weapons and use them to protect the ones he cared about without all of the hassle of Knighthood. Isn't that sweet? That was just how he was and I wasn't the only one to love and care for him.

I rode through the streets feeling more depressed then ever. I'm really going to break this habit. Seems lately I have just been felling sorry for myself which could cause distractions which then could cause me to be seriously injured or even lose my life in a sword dance. I didn't really have a death wish at the moment, maybe next week but not today.

The iron gates rose before me, the entrance to the manor grounds. I let out a small sigh and thought how much I really hated being back. Actually I wanted to pack up and hike off every moment I was here.

Gods, why did you do this to me?

I actually knew the answer to that question.

This was my punishment, the one I chose to follow and I was going to stick to it.

I was let in the gates because my brother and I had come up with a password which he would tell every guard and they would let me in without any questions asked. It was a bit risky but all of the guards were loyal to my brother and his family. Also the new guards didn't know it until they were two years into their service which would give them time to become loyal to my brother. They still have been a few troubles though. There were at least five instances where someone broke in and tried to kill my brother and his wife. I think this time I will tell my brother to take away the password. I really did not want to endanger my family. Even if they were my half relations.

In the courtyard, my horse was taken away to the stables and my saddle bags carried off to a guest room. I was allowed to keep my sword but I would be under tight watching. I guess they were expecting me.

A servant came out to lead me to Zechs' study where he would meet me. Apparently they were expecting me and yet didn't know who I was.

Good.

I was lead through the halls of my childhood, into a maze of hallways and corridors. My guide and I stopped in front of a door that was obviously my brother's because the sign on the door said 'Go away' in bold letters but then underneath in finer letters were the words: 'unless it is something tremendously important'. Looks like he hasn't changed a bit. He always was anal about his privacy.

It seems he doesn't use Father's study up in the attic. I don't think I would either if I had the chance.

I watched the servant knock on the door and heard my brother call for us to come in. Open came the doors and in we went. The servant bowed to my brother in obvious respect and asked 'His Lordship' if he would like tea to be served. My brother made a noncommittal sound as if he didn't care and he probably didn't seeing as he was so engrossed in those papers he was reading. After all it was just his only half sister here to see him.

The servant left, closing the door behind him. I immediately removed my hood. It was really hot in the desert, especially in a house much less a mansion. My brother dropped whatever papers he was reading and looked at me indifferently.

"Oh so you are alive." he stated "We thought you had died."

I rolled my eyes. See, this was one of the reasons I didn't want to come back. I would have to suffer through his sarcastic remarks.

"Cut the crap Zechs. I am here on business." I retorted.

"I was merely trying to make a point dear sister. You have only been home once in the past seven years! You missed the birth of your twin nieces. You missed many of mine and your birthdays. And you have probably been overworking yourself." He pointed out and if I didn't stop him he would rattle off all of my shortcomings into the next week.

Stomping over to his desk, I slammed my hands down onto his desk and ignored the stinging of my palms.

"I have not been overworking myself!" I glared at him but slowly my hostile expression slipped away. I turned on my heel and slouched in the wooden chair in front of his desk. I rested my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. Looking out through my bangs I asked a question.

"So I have a niece?"

"Well Lena-"he was cut off by my glare. I did not want anybody calling me that for the rest of my life. "Relena then, overworking yourself is genetic. Father did it all the time, not giving himself any slack. Noin complains to me all the time about it too. So I guessed you were susceptible to it as well."

My glare had returned and was resting on him. Why had he ignored my question? Was he purposely trying to make me mad because it was working extremely well.

"And as for your question, yes, you have a niece. Two, actually. Both of them healthy, happy, and six years old." He said in adoring fatherhood.

I bit down a sarcastic 'Thank You for telling me' and just stared at him, waiting for him to remember me. While he was off in his own little world I observed his study. Many books, whether it was geography, history, novels, or children's. The walls were a soft cream color and there was a plant hanging in front of the window giving off a pleasant fresh smell. His desk was piled with papers all neatly a lined and stacked, no doubt because of his pickiness.

Finally, he blinked at me as if wondering what I was doing there. I waited it out. He would eventually come to. He has yet to never fully come back from the inside of his head but it does take him awhile. He finally smiled at me and stood up. Walking around his desk he came to me and pulled me up to him for a hug. We haven't hugged each other since he was fifteen. It was a little weird but nice. I have to remember I had a brother sometimes to keep me from a depressing mood sometime in the future.

"Let me introduce you to them. I think you could benefit from the experience." He said playfully.

I stuck my tongue out at him in response. No matter how far apart we have grown we still had our memories and could act like the siblings we once were.

He laughed at my expression and reached up to muss my hair. He was still about eight inches taller than me but height was very strong on Mother's side so it was understandable.

Zechs pulled me to the door by my arm and just as I was about to walk out of the room he looked back and grinned.

"Happy Birthday dear sister. What are you thirty-five? Getting a bit old aren't we."

He dodged my fist and jogged down the hall with me on his tail running and yelling obscenities at him. Thirty-five! He knows better! I was touched he had remembered my birthday though. Deep down it really meant a lot to me and I think he knew that. It looks like this won't be such a bad visit after all. We ran down the hall completely forgetting who we are and what we were. We forgot the inhabitations of the class system because I was technically a commoner now and him, a lord. We forgot so much that I even forgot what I came here for.

Zechs was right when he said I could benefit from meeting his daughters. They were an absolute delight! They didn't have any reserve shyness after they were told who I was but instead they immediately rushed me off to their toy stuffed and princessy rooms to play dolls. We had so much fun. It was one of those times were I could completely let myself go but there was a downside.

I became a little depressed halfway through my time with the girls. I don't think I will ever have children. Parenthood just doesn't appeal to me but I would miss all of the amusement and surprises of children. I think I'll become the adoring aunt. I wonder what Zechs would say. I think the girls sensed my sadness or maybe it was because I let my doll fall off the roof of the playhouse. I don't know but they put down there dolls and gave me a hug. One of them asked me why I was sad. I looked at their small brown haired head and told them they didn't want to know.

One of them pulled back "How do you know we won't like it?" she demanded.

"Trust me on this. If I told you it would only make you sad as well." I whispered.

"Aunt Relena, you are sad and whenever me and Mara are sad we tell Mommy or Daddy. So why can't you tell us?" Blue eyes blazed through her bangs, her small mouth set in firm determination. She had been granted her father's gift of stubbornness. I'm not really sure if that is a good thing actually.

I exhaled quietly while staring at her. I shouldn't tell her. I really shouldn't. I had just opened my mouth when her sister Mara pulled away and glared as much as she could at her sister.

"Marie, Daddy said to be kind to her not scare her away. If she doesn't want to tell you shouldn't bully her. Bullying is mean." She said with childhood wisdom.

"But she's sad." Responded her sister.

"It doesn't matter. Mommy has always said that if someone doesn't tell you something they eventually will." She turned to me and looked at me with innocent blue eyes. "Could you tell us a story? Oh! I know! You could tell us what's making you sad by turning it into a story and adding a happy ending. There has to be a happy ending okay?" she asked.

I stared at her. If she was intentionally asking me to tell my story with the purpose of finding out the truth she must have cleverness in her. The ploy wasn't too subtle if she was but I had to give her genius points. Mara was tremendously different from her sister at such a young age. I could already tell how there lives would turn out. Mara would be smart, clever, and if spoiled, conniving while Marie will be determined, not as intelligent, and strong. One would be delicate, the other proud. They would probably end up clashing heads for their parents' attention. I made a note to tell Zechs and Noin to be careful not to play favorites. That could be disastrous.

All of these thoughts ran through my head while still staring at Mara who was patiently waiting for an answer. I was about to open my mouth when I caught a waft of delicious aromas coming through the door. My stomach growled and my mouth watered a bit, ready for any food that smelled that good. I smiled at the girls and stood up.

"Smells like dinner is on the table and I'm starved so let's go." The girl reluctantly nodded and set down their dolls on the floor to follow me out the door and down the hall. We arrived in the Dinning room just as Zechs and Noin were being seated.

"We were just about to send for you. I hope Relena that this meal will be as good as when you were here. Old Man Moon, our cook died about a year ago. The new chef has yet to perfect some of our favorites but we have found that she has other specialties that are very appealing." smiled Noin.

I stiffly smiled back. Zechs and she had only been married for about four months before I left and I had hardly come to know her before the wedding as well. She was pretty I will give her that. Dark black hair with a bluish sheen to it, a firm yet full mouth, and high cheekbones would have made a splendid portrait. When I asked Zechs what drew him in he said it was her majestic, dark blue eyes. Maybe it was but I think it was because she didn't put up with his cocky attitude and snubbed him when she first met him.

I had laughed myself hysterical when I first heard of it. My brother had been snubbed by a woman half his size! My brother! It still brings a smile to my face when I think of it.

Zechs was confused at first and frequently sought her out to find out why. He was very persistent and soon she began to insult him much less and finally through a rocky courtship he married her. It was one of the two happiest days of his life. The other he claims was when I was born and he saw me for the first time. I think now that my birth has been bumped to third place by his daughter's birth.

Dinner was delicious. Like Noin had said, their new cook had some very delectable specialties. We had just finished with dessert, an extremely dark and bitter-sweet moolah cake when a Manor grounds messenger boy burst through the double-doors of the Dinning room. All of us stared at him as if he had just grown a street sign from his head that said 'Idiot Road'. He flushed and flustered about a bit before finally calling to Zechs and asking him to come with him to meet someone. He was very vague but Zechs paled quite a bit. He glanced at me while he stood up. What was that about? Was he trying to give me a hint? No maybe not because when he reached the door he called over his shoulder for 'all of us to remain in the Dinning room.' and that he 'will be back in a second'. He disappeared from our gaze so all of the occupants of the room turned and stared at each other as if asking what had happened.

Noin cleared her throat, "He shouldn't be long. There was probably a serious fight in town and Milliardo might need to play judge tomorrow for penalties."

This could have happened but judging from my instinct and Noin's facial expression it probably didn't. A silence fell over the room, looming in the darkness, making all of us wonder in our own heads. Even the girls were quiet. Finally I had to break the silence.

"I love what you have done to the Manor, Noin. It had an too much of a masculine feeling when I was growing up here. I wanted so much change it but I could never do anything without my father's and brother's permission, which they never gave. The feminine touch has really lightened up the whole place."

Noin smiled at the compliment and said "Thank you. I thought the exact same thing when I first came here. I didn't do anything about it at first because I didn't want to be one of those demanding housewives, but after awhile I gathered my courage and asked Milliardo if I could spruce the place up a bit."

She leaned on the table, her head in her hands, face taking on a dreamy expression. She told me about all she had done. While cleaning the Estate grounds, painting the walls, having new bedding and fabric made, and trimming the gardens you would have thought she didn't have time for my brother. But no, she had plenty of time with him. She gradually went off the subject of redecorating and moved into what a wonderful, fantastic husband she had. She told me some of his romantic quotes, romantic memories, and the hilarious things he had done. Mara and Marie chipped in on the funny parts and pretty soon all of us were laughing at my brother's expense. Except mine was a very well covered, forced laugh.

All the while she told me of my brother and how much they loved each other envy had grown inside of me. I didn't want to be my brother's lover if that's what you're thinking but I wanted what they had. I wanted to love someone and be loved in return. It didn't help my envy when the girls chirped in the conversation. It showed me how much this family loved and cared for one another and they had spent the last six years as a family without me. When Zechs came back and found us laughing and having a merry old time he asked what was wrong with us women.

Giggling, the girls told him and soon he chuckled himself and recalled more stories, all of which were humorous in their telling whether Noin and his daughters were in the stories or not. It was clear that the whole family had heard these stories before but still found great amusement in them. All of us were still sitting at the table with are dishes cleared off by invisible servants except Zechs had both girls in his lap, wrinkling their dresses and his tunic and loose trousers. Noin was sitting next to him holding his hand and looking at him in admiration as if he was her life line. Maybe he was too. I'm sure if either one of them died the other would fall into too great a depression to be saved. What they had must be what the poets and musicians keep on going on about, 'true love.

At the scene before me my envy grew. It grew so much that it turned into a jealous rage. I became quiet waiting for them to notice me but they never did. This was a family pastime and I was in the past, not in their family. Why had my destiny forced me to give up my love? I gave him up to save his life but why did I have to give up my soul with him? I wanted love. I wanted the feeling of family acceptance. Jealousy is a very dangerous emotion I reminded myself so I squashed it down.

What right did I have to be jealous?

What right did I have to happiness?

None at all. None at all!

Abruptly I stood up, my chair squeaking its protest on the hardwood floor. The sudden movement caused my brother's and his family's attention to shift to me. All of them gave me blank stares, asking what was wrong. I carefully kept my face neutral in return. I had to get out of here because I couldn't stand another second with this torture. Knowing what I have done in the past was enough punishment; I didn't need this to make me feel worse.

"I'm tired so I think I'll turn in now. Traveling all day can really wear you out." I stated which wasn't a complete lie. I was tired _because_ of traveling and _of_ traveling.

As I reached the door I turned back and told Zechs I needed to speak to him in the morning about a matter of importance, and then continued on my way to my room, leaving them to stare after me. I bet they will have forgotten me by the time I reached my room.

In my room, I bathed and dressed in a loose, easy-to-move-in night gown. Climbing into bed and laying down I rested and let my mind wonder. I thought of all kinds of things: the past, future, present, debts, conversations, and when my mind grew bored with that I started making up stories in my head. I hadn't done this since I was a little girl with dreams of one day meeting my knight-in-shining-armor but none of the stories in my head had a happy ending. I made the stories as real life like as possible, putting heartbreak and sadness in them.

You can tell I'm in a good mood.

Slowly my eyes drifted shut and gradually the stories shifted into my heart's desire. All of them had happy endings now because that's what I want in my life deep down. But sadly I knew it wouldn't happen.

There was one thought though that never left my mind and always wormed its way into my head. It was annoying but I had to wonder at it. Was it really true?

Did I deserve happiness?

* * *

End chapter.

(Sneak preview of the next, down at the bottom of the page)

Okay so how was that?

It is moving along at a creeping pace I know but I believe you can't rush into things especially stories. If you do then you use up all of your interesting stuff and your left with nothing to move on the story.

So how did you like the little bit about Relens's heritage. I think I did a good job making her father look like a jerk which was my intention.

For those who are new to the story I update every other week (or try to) and to those that are following readers I edited chapter 2. I couldn't stand all of the grammar problems so I reedited it. Nothing much was added I just fixed spelling and stuff like that.

I also would like to apologize to those who have been waiting to read this chapter for over two weeks and a half. My computer contracted a small virus as I clarified at the top of the page so everything was jumbled up but now it is fixed and I am updating it.

Ok now for the sneak preview of the next chapter:

"_So?" I responded again._

"_He is here in town with those four men and all of them have very well made swords and have been trained to use them. We can't do anything about it too."_

"_So?.....Wait! What did you say?" I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true! _

"_I said Heero is in town with the exact same men who disappeared with him, and we can't do anything about it because they are considered free men now." My brother answered looking away._

_I couldn't believe it! I didn't want to believe it. After seven years Heero was back in town as if nothing had gone wrong during those years. I didn't want to see him again! What would I say? What would he do? I have to leave before he finds out I'm here but where to go. It doesn't matter Relena just get your butt out of town!!!!!!!!!_

Remember I need at least three reviews to get the next one out in three days so REVIEW PLEASE!!!!


	4. I can't deal with this right now!

**Sigh**

Sorry about the wait. I have Finals this week so my parents unplugged the computer and hid the cords so I could go on the computer. I found them this afternoon and plugged them back in so now here is the fourth chapter.

Sorry about the wait again.

Slavery of the Heart by Ally Lei

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its Characters or names.

In the middle of the night, footsteps awoke me. Someone was in my room. The footsteps were of a trained knight, light, consistent in step, and purposeful. Usually I would think it would be someone who has come to kill me but I could smell a smoky, musty smell mixed with a pleasant rose aroma. It was my brother but what was he doing in my room?

I shifted my head so I could look at him with a question shining in my eyes. He obviously saw the movement and noticed my expression because he was staring at me as well, and had a mournful face as if that was supposed to tell me everything I wanted to know. Well it didn't and I was waiting for him to explain what in the Gods' Hell he was doing in my room in the middle of the night. He still didn't answer me but now that my eyes had adjusted to the darkness I noticed his expression was pained not mournful. It was as if he was fighting himself over something. What was it?

Shadows played over his face and for a moment, when the moon shined through the window unhindered by clouds, he looked like he was an old grandfather with grandchildren. It scared me a lot. I realized I was sort of waiting for a signal to go home permanently. To go to a family that loved me and would take care of me, but I don't think Zechs will welcome me here in his family where I could influence some disastrous things.

It finally was knocked into me that I would be alone for the rest of my days because even if I found Jakkin he would soon settle down somewhere with a wife and raise a bunch of children as reckless yet nervous as him. Maybe I really should adopt but then they would probably go 'trying to find themselves' and I wouldn't stop them. Maybe I need a pet. I realized the night was doing weird things to my mind and I tuned back in to see Zechs coming over and sitting on my bed. I waited for him to speak because I wasn't catching his mind signals if he was trying to send them to me.

Finally he spoke in a quiet whisper. It seemed as though by saying what was bothering him aloud something he wouldn't like would actually happen. I know the feeling because I had felt similar before. Take for example when I was questioning the old man about Jakkin, I could barely make a sound much less talk above a whisper. It had caused the old man some grief and he became irritated because he couldn't hear me.

"Relena…I haven't been exactly honest with you. No. No, no. Don't say anything. Let me get this out." He held up his hand when I opened my mouth to object.

He continued in a stronger voice when he was sure I wouldn't interrupt.

"Four years ago I received word that _he_ had escaped slavery." I gasped. Heero had not been a slave for four years! Why had I not been told!?!

Zechs continued as if he didn't notice me which I was sure he did because his face had a tortured look to it.

"Once I received word of it I went to see for myself and it was indeed true. Heero had escaped his locked and guarded room. I am sure you don't know this or want to know this but Heero was a Fighter; he was trained to fight in the slave arena for entertainment of the rich. I asked around for details and received some disturbing answers." he looked at my petrified face and grimaced. Here I thought he worked in the minds or labor work in the fields but he didn't, he was a slave for entertainment. I sure hope he wasn't forced to fight nude like so many noble wives make them do when their husbands are gone. Oh, Heero, I thought in despair.

"It turns out that when Heero was bought, he asked for that particular job. He never explained what he meant to his trainers but to the other slaves around him he said that he had someone to repay. He trained hard, harder than anybody there and soon became undefeatable in the arena. He faked loyalty to his patron and gradually gained the trust of the guards by punishing and rebuking troublemakers like it was his right to do so and he was ruthless too. He showed no mercy and if I was to give likeness to what he did I would have to say his attitude was not unlike his attitude towards invaders. That is the most accurate description of what I heard that you could understand. I mean you have seen for yourself how uncaring he can be." He looked at me for comprehension of his words. I did understand him and I had witnessed Heero in action.

It was a month before Heero actually confessed he had deep feelings for me and I was down in the bay, swimming and relaxing under the sun. I fell asleep sometime in the afternoon and that was when the raiders came. Dressed in rags, with rusted weapons, and smelling obscene, they rushed onto the beach, stumbling over each other in their haste and I was in there way. The Defenders, town citizens fighting to protect their homes, were watching and waiting to attack up above me on top of the cliff with arrows. No one came to rescue me, in fact I don't think anyone actually knew I was down there because I had purposefully ran away for the day.

I awoke to sounds of harsh breathing and the muffled sounds of tramping feet through the sand. I, at first, thought someone was on the beach with me and was running even though why a whole herd of people decided to take a walk on the beach at the same time was beyond me. To make a medium story shorter I woke up and smelled a foul stench and sat up to see where it was coming from. Obviously natural instinct demanded I scream and run for my life so I did just that. I don't really know why, when your life is in danger you make as much noise as you can even if there was a chance to escape quietly. Anyway Heero was up on the cliffs as well and he heard someone screaming; when he realized it was me he charged down with a group of people anxious for a fight and tried to cut his way to me. I didn't know this so I kept on running but eventually tripped and fell flat on my face with the air knocked out of my lungs.

Heero had chosen that moment to look over and he saw me on the ground surrounded by a group of greasy, unclean raiders. To say the least he went berserk. He killed everything in his path and cut up quite a few fellow Defenders and when he reached me he cut a whole person in half with one stroke at the waist. The others he stabbed or gutted until you couldn't tell what were entrails and what was skin. It was disgusting and I had seen the whole thing. He stood over me covered in blood and most of it not his. His sword was at his side dripping with blood and tissue. He looked ferocious and scary. I avoided him for two weeks after that for fear but eventually Heero soothed my fears and told me his side of the story. I was still a bit wary of him for a couple months after though. He said that when he realized who was screaming he deliberately disobeyed orders and ran down to rescue me. He also explained that when he saw me on the ground that moment was one of the scariest moments in his life because he thought he had lost me. It was then he realized he loved me or so he says when he actually told me. I personally think it was when I ignored him for two whole weeks and he couldn't stand it

I sighed a bit.

Maybe there was something wrong with me because I have been really losing touch with the world lately. From what I hear that is not a good thing. I can just see myself now in the middle of a sword dance and all of a sudden I start thinking about food. I would be chopped down to pieces. I shook my head. I think I am beginning to understand why I hate mornings, you can never think straight so the mornings seem miserable.

Back with Zechs I noticed he was waving a hand in front of my face. I scowled at him. I had not been out of it that long, I thought with some ignition. I beckoned for Zechs to continue with some annoyance. He gave me a warning look that I recognized from my childhood. It basically meant that he was feeling very fragile and could blow at a seconds notice. Damn mood swings.

"As I was saying he was ruthless to trouble makers, but I found out an interesting detail. He only punished slaves in the eyes of the people it mattered too. For example his Lord and Lady. I also found out that he frequently 'punished' four troublemakers but when away from watching eyes he was friends with them. I even heard he tried to heal one of them but you know as well as I his talent is making and wielding metal so it didn't work out so well. I was only able to get vague details of what they looked like but they were distinguishing features. One of the men he socialed with was pure bred Northerner, another had black hair and black eyes but he was a bit on the short side as far as slaves go." His eyes took on a mirth-like twinkle.

"Sounds like a Traders' victim doesn't it? He actually came from a distant land, far to the East and was very expensive for the Lord and Lady of the manor. The two left both have brown hair but one of them has a long braid down his back which is unusual so he shouldn't be too hard to pick out in a crowd." A thoughtful look came over my brother's face.

"I wonder why he keeps his hair long. Wouldn't that be uncomfortable? I would think so."

Here was my brother, talking about a person with long hair as if it was some kind of mystery yet he had long hair too. I found amusement in the irony. I was a bit worried about that last description though. Why did it sound so familiar? I could swear I have seen someone like that recently. But where?

"The other just has short hair with unusually long bangs from what my informant had said. So all in al you shouldn't have any trouble avoiding them. The only way I can think of you stumbling into them was if it was in the early hours of the morning and you slammed into one of them on your way back from the pot room (bathroom)." My brother was rambling, I noticed. My eyes narrowed. He was holding something back that he would rather not tell me. When he took a breath I found my chance.

"Why are you telling me this now? I mean you should have told me the last time I visited because if I did the math right he was out for a year before I came back. So if you are worried about me running into him I highly doubt it will happen because I have spent the past four years Heero-free." I said harshly. My brother winced at the coldness in my voice. I, myself, inwardly cringed but I couldn't let it go. Why was he telling me now of all times? Especially in the morning!

"I know I should have told you but I didn't think. I just wanted you not to worry because you were still very distraught over him." my brother answered me. I gave him a blank look. He sighed and finally came out with what was bothering him.

"His owners had no clue how he did it but Heero escaped without opening the door, knocking out the guard, or being seen outside the mansion's gates. That was amazing but what's even more amazing is he also spirited four other men out with him, all of the ones I told you about and Relena, these are no ordinary men. They had been training for five years and some even longer than that with swords and weights. These men were big, muscular, clumsy, and easy to see yet there was no trace of them during the night or when they discovered they were missing in the morning. That in itself suggests they are powerful and dangerous."

"So?"

"After he made it out people went searching for them and found all of them went their separate ways but Heero went straight to the North."

"So?" I responded again.

"He returned to the South close to nine months ago. He is now here in town with those four men and all of them have very well made swords and have been trained to use them. We can't do anything about it too."

"So?Wait! What did you say?" I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true!

"I said Heero is in town with the exact same men who disappeared with him, and we can't do anything about it because they are considered free men now." My brother answered looking away.

"They have been asking about a blonde haired half-blood with the bright, clear blue eyes of the Northerners. The description also mentions a ring on her smallest, left finger."

We both then glanced at my left hand as I held it up. There it was. A simple silver band ring studded with a clear blue stone, the color of my eyes Heero had said when he slid it onto my finger. I had never been able to bring myself to slip it off when I left so to this day it was still there. Over time I had forgotten about it and didn't even notice it when I rubbed my eyes. Now that is saying a lot. I wonder if Heero did anything to it. He could have if I knew him well enough.

Then Zechs' words sunk in.

I couldn't believe it! I didn't want to believe it. After seven years Heero was back in town as if nothing had gone wrong during those years. I didn't want to see him again! What would I say? What would he do? I have to leave before he finds out I'm here but where to go.

It doesn't matter Relena just get your butt out of town!!!!!!!!!

I pushed Zechs off the mattress and flung myself onto the cold floor. Not bothering to even dress I traveled around the room in a frenzy of activity. I was ready to go in five minutes flat. I had dressed myself in dark clothes and in front of my brother much to his embarrassment but I didn't care. I could not put up with my past knocking on my doorstep once again. I had to leave.

Now!

On my way out the bedroom door I glanced back to see Zechs standing by my bed and watching me. He understood what I had to do and he was fine with it, I could tell, but he didn't know when he would see me next. This reminded me.

"Zechs, have any Traders' carts past by or stop near town in the past couple of days?" I asked. I had to remember I could not let Jakkin down. I had to leave and find him too.

"A whole caravan of them stopped yesterday, by the oasis. The townspeople told me that they wanted rope and food whether it is fresh or stale. They moved on yesterday morning heading down to the Hook." He looked puzzled about why I was asking this and I wasn't going to give him any answers. I stored the information in my head and briefly wondered how he knew that as well as what Heero had been doing, but I was smart enough not to ask. He obviously had informants but they were a secretive group and if I was to ask him it would put him in an uncomfortable position of lying to me, refusing me, or telling their identities. I would never intentionally do that to my brother.

Once again I turned to the door but turned back again. I smiled slightly, silently giving him a message that I would take care of myself. He still looked a bit unnerved so aloud I told him Good bye for now and I would see him on the next visit. I also teasingly told him I would try to remember birthdays but it was a bit hard for me with work and stuff. He his expression switched to a relieved one and he slightly inclined his head. Zechs didn't believe in good-byes but I did. I didn't know when I would next see him so I stood there for a few minutes.

"Give Noin and the girls my apologies and best wishes."

Again with the nod. I sighed and turned away.

It was a hasty ride through town, full of dangers. My horse could have hit somebody or threw a shoe and that would have brought unwanted attention. I also could have been stopped by soldiers standing in as guards but many of them thought I was some kind of demon apparition so the let me pass on by while they screamed in terror. I snorted. Zechs had better toughen up his soldiers because if they were afraid of death they obviously weren't trained that well. I remembered then that Barn, the trainer, had retired some years back. The new one must still be testing the ropes.

The desert night air was cool. I loved riding at night in the desert. The cool wind whipped though my hair as if it was a lover's caress. The stars shone above me like precious stones, burning with a light that will never fade. It was quiet on the sands. Just me and my sand horse, Snow (she's white). We ran along together feeling the freedom of the night with the only sounds of her foot falls and her harsh breathing. It was a wonderful night to make my escape from Peacecraft as well as my troubles. I didn't think of any thing during the ride. Nothing at all. Maybe it was shock, stress, or the lack of sleep but it was a peaceful time for me and I was very grateful for it.

During the night, I periodically walked Snow. I didn't want her becoming too tired so if we had to run for our lives she would be energized. It was a good thing I did too because we ran into a bit of trouble at dawn.

Over the sand dunes came men on horses at full speed, heading straight for us. All of them had their arms raised and the favored weapon of the sand's clans, the curved sword. The rising sunlight glinted off their swords and for a moment blinding me which I am sure was their intention. Down they came, about twenty or so charging towards me and yelling out war cries. I knew I couldn't fight twenty armed men. Maybe five but not twenty so I kicked my horses sides in hopes she would be able to out run them.

We ran for a long time but they gradually caught up. I knew it wasn't Snow's fault. Obviously these men rode on fresh horse and Snow had been running all night. As they neared I readied my self for battle. I didn't stop to think what they wanted me for because a red haze was already settling over me. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins as well as frustration and anger at the past. Why couldn't the past stay in the past!?!

I reined in my horse and pivoted her around. Nudging her sides I aimed for the outsider of the group, hoping to slice or knock him from his horse. They realized what I was doing but they weren't able to turn fast enough to stop me. My sword rang from its scabbard, wanting a worthy fight and I planned on giving it to her, my beloved sword Kira. She was a beautiful sword with a blue gemstone in the hilt and silver filigree wrapped around it in a design and a long, straight double-edged blade. She would have looked for a normal sword if it wasn't for ancient, glowing runes running along the blade. She had been made for me with the completion of my training in the North, she had a piece of my soul in her and she was privy to all my emotions, and right now I was feeling a lust unlike any other. I was feeling a lust for blood and vengeance for something I could not even explain, and these men were going to satisfy it.

Reaching the man on the outside of the group, I came up to him until I was right in front of him before my sword whipped out. He ran right into the blade before he could parry it and going in opposite directions and at such a tremendous speed his body was cleaved in half. Pivoting my horse I charged again to the outside not realizing that the group had compacted and could move easier. I was riding up, charging my worn horse to reach my enemy when all of a sudden my horse stumbled and fell to the ground, dead with me on her back. Someone had shot an arrow into her throat. I didn't care at the time but I would no doubt in the future if I survived. Rising to my feet I brought my sword out in front of me, letting all of them glimpse what they were facing. None of them faltered in step or pulled on their horses' reins. They came at me charging but didn't' run me over or slice me up like a piece of meat like I expected them to. Instead they surrounded me. Some of them had been carrying long spears and now they were pointing them at me.

I circled, trying to watch all of them at once, looking and testing for weaknesses. Finally I noticed a young man up in a saddle that looked like he wanted to personally fight. I took the weakness and used it to my best advantage. I jumped in front of his horse and cut her throat in a swift, painless motion before he even had time to react. His horse's legs buckled and fell to the ground with a tremor and a wave of freed sand but before it landed he gracefully jumped out of his seat. When he landed, though, I stabbed him in the stomach and pushed him to the ground. It left an opening in the circle and I tried to take it but before I could even take a step forward something hard smacked my head. Pain exploded at the back of my head and instantly I felt my hearing fade and my vision blacked out but before I did I saw my clothes were darkened with something.

Blood and then darkness.

I came to feeling my arms prickle and my joints protesting at my uncomfortable position. Pain was pounding through my head and all I could do about it was nothing. I always prided myself to be quick and when I woke up my pride was proven. Despite the pain and nauseous feeling I instantly remembered what had happened over the past week in rich detail. I groaned in despair. My horse was killed in my rashness and two people were dead because of me. Oh Gods what have I done. Even though I was the SwordQueen I had never intentionally harmed or killed somebody. Well at least I wouldn't be able to run into Heero now, but what did they want with me? I hadn't done anything offensive to the sand's tribes, I don't think. Well now I had but I was a little delusional then.

Even though I have danced with many fighters I never intentionally killed anyone. I fought glorious dances but when it came time for the kill I refused to do it. It was my conscience that stopped me. When I looked at the other dancer's face, I can't kill him because I don't want to take another life's future away from them. I will not take their lives in my own hhands to kill them! I take it and put it back in their own hands, giving them the choices of training to become stronger so that they will never have to be in that position again, or retiring from the game of dancing. It was their choice. I always left it up to them and most of the time they chose the right choice. But the question is, what is the right choice? I believe it all depends on the fighter's life. Most of the time the men (I am the only woman sword dancer here in the South) realize it and respect me for it. Noble's wonder why so many dancers respect a woman who will not kill when she is being paid to do it but then again they never did and I highly doubt they will.

There is another reason too, why I don't kill them in a dance. When I look at fellow dancers' frightened yet calm faces, I see my lover in their eyes taunting me to kill my victim; to destroy all life within his body. Just as I had no doubt done to him. It pains me and I refuse the offer because I want to prove to myself that I was different then what I saw myself as. It seems I will always be haunted by my past more so now then ever before. I still couldn't believe Heero was alive!

Blinding light shone on my face and I realized how dark it was. I quickly looked around me noting my position and surroundings.

I was on the wooden floor of what looked like the inside of a covered wagon. It was stifling hot and there was a slight musty odor but I think it came from the many old blankets and rugs in the corner. My captors must have cleared out one of their storage wagons to haul me around. Wasn't that polite?

The light was coming from what I assumed was the back of the tent. A figure stood there watching me with wary eyes I am sure but I couldn't see him that well because the sun was shadowing his face. He said something in a weird language, something that I didn't recognize. It was funny, almost like a soft whirling sound, rising octaves and lowering to accent syllables. I didn't understand it at all which left me slightly confused. All of the Sand's tribe's' language had common roots if you just learned one language you could roughly exchange a few words in all others and I did know all of the Tribes tongue. Not this one it would seem.

Were they immigrants from another country? Were they nomadic by habit or had no where else to go? Who were they?

When the man finished his short speech he waited, obviously waiting for an answer. He didn't get one because I ha no clue what he was trying to get across. We waited each other out, waiting for the other to reveal all. Finally he grew impatient and yelled something in his language. Instantly he stepped back from my view and two different figures appeared, each of them had hulking muscles that bulged with the slightest movement. Their hands reached and I tried to squirm away but my hands, knees, and feet were bound with a tough rope.

Hands contracted around my legs, sliding me across the wooden floor and into the blinding sun light. Can you say splinters?

Quickly I judged the suns position and was a bit shocked to realize the time. Initially I thought it was in the afternoon because of the brightness but it was actually close to sun down. In one more hour, the sky will be painted an orange and pink color as the sun slowly descends down below the Earth. I had been unconscious for a whole day! This drastically set back my plan.

Before I could follow the escape train of thought I was jerked to my feet and thrown over a huge man's shoulder. By the Gods he was huge!! He must have stood over seven feet tall and look at those muscles! They could be a play ball for a child and that was just his shoulder!

I was unable to allow my wonder grow as I was jerked off the man's shoulder and thrown painfully to the ground. My elbow jarred against the ground and my legs were twisted painfully up against me. I froze, waiting for some kind of pain to follow my tumble to the ground but nothing happened. Hesitantly I shifted about making myself more comfortable. I slowly raised my eyes and sucked in my breath so fast I choked. Before me stood people dressed in brightly colored robes and dresses. Each person was dressed as if a rainbow had painted them herself. They were magnificent in color and no doubt texture; By the Gods if a regular cloth and dress maker could make clothing and dye it like that they would have every noble from the South and North begging for their services.

But that wasn't really the reason why I gasped. Their faces were tattooed with luminous blue ink. Their faces and men's foreheads had designs tattooed into their skin and these weren't any ordinary tattoos. These were the ancient designs of the North. The same inscriptions could be found on Kira, my beloved sword. I realized who these people were but I didn't want to believe it. Their ancestors were from the North, people who at the time didn't like the way things were being changed in their society. They left their country, moved to the South and were never seen or heard of again. The problem was that these people were the country's finest dancers, warriors, and inscriptors. When they left the country was drastically weakened and invaders came and took over the southern half of the North's land, thus forming the countries Sunnsand and Coldsnow. That was two centuries ago and if their descendants were still alive and thriving by the looks of it then it is safe to day that these people were beyond incredible.

Guards surrounded me but left me an opening so I could watch what was going on. It looked like the whole camp turned out to see me. I bet they have never seen a half-breed Southerner because if I have never seen them they must live a reclusive life.

They had tanned skins but not as dark as the true Sunnsand countryman. Their hair was lighter as well, almost like mine. In fact, I could have passed myself off as one of them if I wanted. I thought that that thought was a little scary while looking at their blue-tattooed faces. I shuddered lightly. I could deal with pain but if I was correct on my history the only way you could receive them was if you passed a hard test. The adult test consisted of traveling far distances and defeating a great foe; they left without food, water, or weapons. Doesn't sound that pleasant to me and then there was the issue of actually receiving the tattoo through the use of a hot needle and very hot ink. Sounds _painful_ to me!

I was lost in my wonderings for about a half an hour if I judged the time right. I kneeled there before all of the camp's inhabitants, thinking and shifting around to find a more comfortable position. Many men would think this was disgraceful but I didn't. You learned to kneel and keep silent for hours on end in the Northern Dancers (the school I learned sword dancing from. They are noted for precision, swiftness, and skill and are always the winner in a dance with a Southerner.). I could tell this was a test and waited for whatever was to come.

Finally, the crowd parted revealing a middle-age man with a sword, my sword, at his waist. I could practically feel power radiating off of him as well as maliciousness. This man had a cruel streak I could tell. In war he would have kept no prisoners and probably wouldn't care for his men's lives. He probably hurts women in bed too but they probably are too afraid to tell on him.

I think I am looking at their leader.

He smiled cruelly at me and called out to the assembly behind him. I again didn't understand him because he was no doubt the man from earlier, but the crowd shifted on their feet. Some women sent hateful looks towards me while others looked as me as if I was a disgusting bug not worth their time. I must have killed one of their husbands but a man wasn't allowed to have that many wives was he? By the Gods, most of the female population looked like they wanted to murder me; the only ones who didn't were the wise, old women. The men too were watching me but they didn't look hateful, only thoughtful. Some were watching the speaker amusedly.

I realized then what was going on. I was standing trial for the men I killed. The Speaker must be telling some outrageous story to try to condemn me and looking to the women for support because the men knew what had actually happened. He was charming the women with his words, painting a scene for them with the two I killed to try to save my life as the fallen heroes. Pathetic. It was obvious that the women held some sway over my sentence and he was trying to seduce them into to giving me death. I scoffed at him inwardly but held still. I did not need to anger them with my doings, though spitting on his sandaled feet was looking very intriguing.

Finally he ended his moving speech with a yell and the women shouted back, asking for my death it seems. I prayed to the gods to stop them. I didn't want to die yet! It wasn't time!

I felt panicky and hot. They were probably deciding my way of death right now I thought as I watched them argue with each other, one women would shout then another one would and so on and so forth.

We were in a desert I knew but I could have sworn I felt a chilling blast for a brief moment. The wind held the scent of ice and coldness, so out of place in the desert. I must be having flashbacks to happier times I thought, but that wasn't it.

A man toddled into view on my right and I turned to look at him. He was short and old. He leaned heavily on his wooden staff carved with the ancient symbols. His hair was white and had receded to the back of his head but his forehead and scalp was covered in blue tattoos that gave off a strong blue light. It was obvious he held the great respect of his people because as soon as he appeared everyone kneeled, including the Speaker, though somewhat reluctantly. He must be their tribe Inscriptor, the holy man who drew the tattoos of power.

He spoke in a quick decisive voice and soon everyone moved to lean on their heels with their heads bowed. I was the only one openly staring at him and he was watching me too.

He turned his attention to his people and spoke in a reprimanding tone. There was a cry of outrage form the speaker who threw up his head and spat out a few sentences. These words bothered the crowd because people shifted on their knees and either shook their heads or nodded them. The Inscriptor leaned on his staff more and adopted a thoughtful look. He knew he couldn't save me from any punishment but he was trying to judge his peoples reactions and justice.

Finally he looked to me and spoke in halting Southerner.

"I not save you from punishment. People agree to whipping. Fifteen strokes per death. They won't agree lower." he watched me for comprehension. I gave him a stiff nod to show I did. Quickly he barked out orders to the bulky men surrounding me. Two of them grabbed my arms and lifted me up, completely supporting my weight. The crowd rose too and moved hastily away towards the center of the camp. I guess that is where I will be 'punished'. The men on both sides frog-marched me around the camp and into a tent, and that is where an old women tore the clothes from my back to spread a cool gel on my skin. It smelled herby, almost gaggingly so. I recognized it as a mixture that would help efficiently heal the skin and not leave big, visible scars. At least some felt that they should give me this one small mercy

I was being prepared.

I went through that time in a daze, driving my awareness of the world deeper into myself so I wouldn't fell the pain as much. I did this often before a fight and it helped me see logically and not let instinct drive me. Hopefully it would work here. I barely felt it when they dragged me out of the Healer's tent and into the center of the camp. I didn't really feel the rope scrape against my skin as they bound me to a post. I didn't smell the sweat and the stink of excitement at all.

But I did feel the first lash. The pain whipped across me, instantly bringing me out of my reverie and jerking against me bonds. I bit my lip so hard it bled but I told myself not to scream; not to give them the satisfaction of seeing me in pain. Each lash sent painful fire into my body but I held through it all. I don't know how much time passed because halfway in between the pain became unbearable and I almost fainted from it, but then the whippings stopped coming. I heard someone walking behind me and some quick talking. Then the lashes fell again in faster and more furious strokes. It felt like the person whipping me changed with someone. Maybe the other's arm was tired. I know my back was. I kept telling myself not to give into the pain and the physical pain was better then emotional.

Even so I made a note in my mind between strokes to_ never_ kill again.

Finally the strokes stopped when I was beyond the midway point to unconsciousness. My bonds were slashed open, jerking me, and causing the rope to scrap against my skin. I made myself hold my head up to show the people I wasn't weak, I did have some strength in me. I couldn't walk though. Some of the lashes had come down on the back of my thighs and calves rendering me unable to walk because of the pain.

When I looked toward the tribe all of them looked mollified except the more aggressive females. They still gave me murderous looks and I glared right back at them. I had gone through my punishment at their mercy. What more did they want from me? I could answer that without even thinking about it. They wanted my death and even more so when I had the audacity to glare at them as if I had a right. I personally thought I did so I didn't care about it too much but I really should have. Some of those women probably had the nerve to attack me in my sleep.

I was dragged back into the Healer's tent and laid on the dirt ground stomach-down, but before I was put in that position the old woman gave me something bittersweet to drink. It was a sedative and normally I wouldn't fall asleep with such a little dosage but my body was weakened from my whipping and I instantly passed out again.

The thing that brought me out of my painful yet sedative sleep was the smell of food and my stomach clenching to the point I felt nauseous. My eyes opened slowly, ready to snap shut if needed to. My vision was blurry at first but after a few seconds of waiting it cleared.

Before my face was an earthenware plate with some greens and a sandwich on it. I couldn't tell what the greens were or the sandwich but they smelled wonderful. I tried to bring my hands around to pick up the food but when I felt the tight rope I realized I was bound with my hands behind my back again. My stomach growled loudly and instantly there was movement behind the food.

A person had been leaning up against the short wagon wall sleeping. So focused on the food, I didn't notice anyone else in the tiny wagon which was saying a lot. I mean there was about five feet of room width wise and eight feet in length; I should have noticed him.

It was the old man who had vetoed my death in front of the people. The Inscriptor.

His pure white hair on his head his full white beard glowed in the dim light of the wagon. I could see now up close that he was blind; his eyes were white with no pupils. His clothing was of the finest material, better even than the people's. They were blue in color and had ancient symbols embroidered on in to them, declaring him the tribe's Inscriptor.

I could sort of understand why he helped me earlier; his tribe was being swayed over to the Speaker's way of thinking which included a lot of death and corruption. His tribe was facing the same troubles that his ancestors had run from coming from within themselves. If the Speaker continued on his path he would most likely break away from the tribe with many of the women and set out to conquer power, giving all of the Sand's tribes a bad reputation. The Inscriptor didn't want that and tried to thwart many of the Speaker's schemes and tried to cast him in a bad shadow.

My hatred for the Speaker grew. Maybe I should start calling him the Antagonist? No that is too much of a mouth full. Which led me back to my original train of thought.

Why was he here? In the same cart as me. Watching over me and giving me food.

He must have sensed and mistook my confusion for fear. He lifted a feeble arm and reached over. I instantly tensed, ready for any action that I could try to defend myself against. It didn't come. Instead he reached over and tapped my shoulder blade and gave me a word.

"Archa"

At first the meaning of his word eluded me but I realized then that I couldn't feel my back, butt, and the back part of my thighs. Archa was a desert weed that was harmless when alive and leafing but when it died the leaves shriveled and could be plunked. It was then ground up into a powder that would numb anything that it came in touch with because it entered through the skin. It was very powerful obviously because I couldn't feel the formerly mentioned regions at all, and I should have with the whipping I had received.

It was an unsettling feeling; knowing that your back was there but you couldn't feel anything it was touching. My brain wasn't receiving the signals that my back was actually there and it was making me feel a bit cagey. A childish thought came to mind that I always wanted to test. Quickly, before the old man could stop me I rolled onto my back.

Now that feeling was really unnerving.

I felt as though I didn't have any support under me like I was floating above the world on my back relaxing. Only there is so much relaxing you can do when you hands, feet, and knees were bound. I felt a tug on my shoulder and realized the old man had reached across my body and was frantically trying to pull me back onto my side. I remembered my wounds and reluctantly turned onto my side, facing him while he checked my wounds. His hand came back bloody. I think he swore softly then but I had no clue. He could have been calling my blood beautiful and I still wouldn't have known or been creeped out.

He stared grimly in the direction of the food as if he was trying to come to a painful decision. It was then that he reached behind him and drew out a skin full of some liquid. He made a motion of opening my mouth and I did it gratefully yet naively because my throat was parched. The liquid that filled my mouth was bitter and made me feel as though a thousand horses had just stampeded across my head. I instantly tried to gag and spit it up but he held my mouth close firmly and ignored my squirming. It eventually came to the point were he had to place his elbow on my neck so it would cut off my wind pipe when I moved. Slowly and resentfully I swallowed it and stared at him with something not unlike contempt. I still couldn't hate a man who had saved my life.

My vision blacked out while staring into those milky white eyes.

I learned during the days I spent recovering and healing that those men that had attacked me were mercenaries with a few of the tribe's young men (the young men had to serve five years of service outside of the tribe to be fully accepted as a man).it turns out that someone had been looking for a half-blood and would consider a debt paid if the tribe found the right one. I didn't really understand all of the details but apparently a person had done a great deed for the tribe and they felt they needed to owe him something. He told them to look for a half-breed woman who was unusually tall.

When those young men saw me riding through the desert they realized that they could pay that debt to this stranger. They had rallied some of the mercenaries and rode as a band to capture me and you know the rest.

It also turned out that I was right on many other assumptions too. The women loved and adored the two young men I had killed; they frequently fought over whom were going to be the men's wives and mistresses, even the married ones. That also explained why the men really didn't care how bad my punishment was because it put the women's attention back on them. I was also right about the Speaker who is called, Gilo. He was trying to change the tribe's ways and take power. This bit was not said out right because he was the head chief man's son and was due some respect, but the older women and men softly cursed his name when something went wrong.

What did surprise me was that one of the young men I had gutted was Gilo's son. I figured out that Gilo must have had his when he was about sixteen and the mother died in childbirth (though many believe that after birth she was poisoned so he could raise his son as he saw fit too).

I also learned that the only reason the Inscriptor was helping me was because the stranger pacifically asked him to look after whoever they found and make sure she didn't commit suicide. I snorted when I heard this. I had confidence in my ability to escape him when he came for me and waited each day for him to come. Though that isn't to say I didn't try to escape the tribe. I tried three times total to try and steal away during the night. Didn't work out that well because they always caught me within an hour or two. After the third try I gave up and formed the plan to wait for my buyer.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that.

This guy had refused an outright payment from the tribe. He told them that as long as they captured me the debt would be considered paid and then when he came to claim me he would pay them for the trouble of keeping me alive and in healthy condition. I was kept alive and in a somewhat remotely healthy condition because people began to get annoyed with me after my second run and after my third I was mildly abused.

Half way through my stay with the tribe, I would feel periodic hot flashes that would leave me cold and weak. I felt myself becoming weaker everyday and frequently tried to tell the old man about it when he came to see me. It didn't work out. I got the impression he was taking care of me to the barest minimum that he could without upsetting this stranger. I hoped dearly that my 'buyer' would hurry and receive medical attention when he realized I was sick and I planned on letting him know the moment we were far enough away from this tribe.

On the seventh day of my capture I was rudely awoken by a swift jabbing foot. I came to recognize the phrase of 'Get up' in their language but I am sure it was more colorful then that. Me, being my stubborn self, refused to uncurl from my protective ball. They didn't like that. They swore loudly and I felt vices clamp onto my arms. Painfully I was jerked to my feet. The two men were dressed in what I recognized as their finest clothing with elaborate threading and colors, but looked like they were a child pretending to be mature. All three of us couldn't fit across the wagon because of their bulging muscles so one was in front of me and one was behind me. The front one, dressed in a dark blue robe with a maroon sash/belt went out the back of the wagon. I was then pushed out. Painfully blinded for a moment because my eyes had become sensitive to the light in my weak state, I wondered what was going on and dared to hope that my 'buyer' had come. I could now escape into freedom.

When my vision did clear I noticed the whole tribe had turned out for this occasion dressed in all of their finery. Many of the women wore a dark blue color and had many of there gold jewels displayed on their necks, arms, hair, and ears. Those men wore the formal warrior dress with their words prettily polished and honed.

What was going on? Surely one stranger would not receive this much attention?

The women looked ready to throw themselves at a person standing to my left but I couldn't see who he was because I was not allowed to lift or turn my head to see who it was. I had learned that the hard way.

The two men frog-marched me up to the Inscriptor were I was forcefully turned around before I could see who was standing next to him. my bonds were cut but while they were being cut I noticed many of the women now were looking at me hatefully one moment but then sliding their eyes past me to look at the man behind me lustfully. Could a man really be that handsome? Or were they just petty?

My wrists were released and absently I brought them around to rub the skin on them, trying to soothe the pain. My other bonds fell away but I still did not turn around. I felt I owed the old man a little appreciation and would act like a respectable slave they had trained.

Behind me I heard a voice rumble in the tribe's tricky language. He even spoke this gibberish. By the Gods he must be a scholar of the Great City!

I wondered at the voice though. Where had I heard it before? It was someone I had known in the past but I think his language confused me a bit. I am sure I would be able to recognize it if he spoke the Sunnsand language.

The old man replied quickly but then stumbled. The voice rumbled again. Hesitantly the old man told him something and again my buyer made a statement.

The Inscriptor called out and not a few minutes later my bags were set in front of me. All but my beloved sword Kira.

"Kira." I whispered in anger. Was that jerk Gilo allowed to keep her? I would not leave with out her, but it seems I didn't have to because some of the more kind men who had grown fond of me over the week (another reason the women hated me) forced Gilo to the front of the crowd. One of the men, dressed in green meaning authority, was holding Kira and wincing. It had provided me endless amusement over the week when I remembered that Kira would reject any person to hold her or try to control her by sending them painful waves. I had laughed when Gilo came holding to me sword with it's scabbard on and a thick blanket wrapped around, demanding me to explain why he couldn't even touch the hilt without receiving pain. He didn't know the reason why and I didn't tell him.

The man thrust the sword into Gilo's hand and ordered him to give it to my owner. I smirked a little then and mentally increased the amount of driving pain Gilo would receive. Instantaneously his face twisted into a mask of rage and brutal pain, destroying his handsome, mature looks. I laughed inwardly at him and his pride until I felt someone whack the back of my head. Someone knew what I was doing and was warning me to stop.

It couldn't be the Inscriptor because he was blind wasn't he?

Maybe it was my 'owner'. I still snorted at the word. No one would ever own me even after I died.

Gilo stiffly handed the sword past me and my Kira disappeared behind me in my buyer's hand. Infuriatingly he said:

"Turn around and take your sword if you can."

That comment angered me. It was a deep almost monotone voice but it had cruelty and amusement flecking it. It didn't sound familiar then but I could have sworn that I had heard that voice somewhere.

I whirled around causing me to become dizzy for a moment but when I finally could tell if I was still standing it didn't matter. My knees gave out before me and I could only gape at the man standing before me. My stomach rebelled, my head pounded as my vision and hearing faded. But before I did I took in his appearance.

He had certainly turned into a man, not a pinch of fat on his rippling body. Tanned, muscular legs with a lean waist a top them followed by a perfectly (and I mean perfectly!) formed stomach with a chiseled chest. He had a shirt on but I could see his muscle defined through it. His arms showed dense, lean muscle had formed giving him the muscles to wield a sword exceptionally.

All in all his body was a weapon. A deadly honed weapon, pent up with strength and energy, and he knew how to use it seemed judging by the sword hanging from his waist.

Before I blacked out again I looked into his face and found a cruel smirk on his lips with his eyes shining above them. He understood what he had done and so did I. He had found me and he was going to have his revenge.

His eyes showed me all. His suffering, determination, pride, and lust for vengeance all showed through.

His eyes always did show what he was thinking.

I always did love them.

He can't be back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can't deal with this right now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

* * *

End Chapter

(Sneak preview of the next chapter at the bottom)

I know I left this at a cliff hanger but I felt this chapter would be entirely too long if I put Relena's and Heero's actual confrontation in it. So I apologize right now.

Also on a side note I would have to say you should expect the next chapter out around Christmas or maybe even earlier.

Please Read and Review!!!!!!!!

Sneak Preview:

_I was scrunched up between two hard looking men. The one on my right had black hair tied up behind his head and the other on my left had unusually long brown bangs._

_With horror I recalled Zechs' description of Heero's companions and realized these men must be them. Quatre must be the full blooded Northerner but where was the braided one?_

_My question was answered immediately when I saw him amble through the dining hall's doorway followed by the man I dreaded to see. They were in complete opposite moods it looked like. The Braided one had a goofy smile on his face that looked like it could become annoying after awhile. Maybe that was why Heero was in such a stoic mood. Even when he was younger he became easily annoyed at people who were perpetually happy._

_Across from me Quatre smiled and scooted over so the Braided one could plop down across from me. Heero sat more sullenly, not even bothering to look at me._

_I glanced at him but turned my gaze to the man in front of me who was curiously watching me as well. Suddenly he smiled in confused recognition. _

"_Hey! You're the lady that was looking for her son, aren't you!?!" he exclaimed._

_My eyes widened and out of the corner of them I noticed Heero stiffen and swing his scowl to the Braided on and me._

To Readers:

Thank you so much for all of the reviews you sent me. I really appreciated them. I always like to know what people are thinking even though my friends have told me this story is very good.

Ok I received a review that said that it seemed as if by asking for three reviews I was asking for an ego boost. I apologize for it if you got that impression as well but that wasn't really my intention when I put that in the chapter.

You see I always like to know what people are thinking and I am always looking for advice from my reviewers. Take for example if I need to add more character depth or descriptions to certain places or things I want to know if I do because I want this to be a story enjoyable for the reader and for something I can be extraordinarily proud of even if I am already.

So please review to tell me what you think.

Thank you,

Ally Lei


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